Reflections in Sequins and Satin

Leading and following on the dance floor can be analyzed down to the tiniest detail and is probably the most complex form of communication that takes place between two human beings. Leading and following are skills that require true intelligence and cognitive abilities such as learning, pattern recognition, and non-verbal communication. Watching a champion couple is like watching an improvised composition of a piece of art.

A good lead/follow is like a good conversation - you don't have to yell, you only need to talk. As you get better, all you really need to do is whisper. Leading and following is a dynamic process that requires a great deal of effort on the part of both members of a partnership.

Partnering skills are vital to good ballroom dancing. It is very difficult to cover the technique in classes since this is probably the most complex element to couple dancing and takes many years of coaching to perfect. It is not a matter of simple 'cueing', but an understanding of the entire body and how to make 2 people move as one around a common center. Competitive dancers must work extremely hard with this and it is actually tougher with couples who are 'used to each other' than with perfect strangers. A longtime partner can get very used to the feel of their partner, and it is tougher to practice any improvement or change.

Even competitive routines are led/followed. Any competitor taught "dance your own part and let your partner dance theirs, you don't have to lead/follow" has been taught wrong. The judges can tell the difference between a couple with a real lead/follow "connection" and a couple that is just going through their routine. One competitor states "Ballroom is social dancing - it is dependent on lead and follow, even in competition. My competition (Standard - "smooth") partner and I have a few pre-choreographed "amalgamations" we use in competition, but I still always have to rely on his lead to know what we're doing, where we're going, what timing he's going to use this time, how he feels like expressing it this time..." Another competitor says "there is most definitely lead and follow, even in competitive Latin where one's routines are choreographed to the hilt. My partner and I have spent countless hours, with coaches and without them, working on *nothing* but this one aspect of the dance. Good lead and follow is critical in Latin dancing, both for the sake of speed, control and balance, but also simply because a step well-led and followed is a thousand times more pleasurable to dance for both partners."

Without even dancing with them you can tell the competitive dancers who can't lead and follow; just look for the couples who keep running into others on the floor. Because they dance their own parts, they have not developed and practiced the dynamic process of leading and following (floorcraft) required to negotiate around obstacles and unexpected incursions into their line of dance. Even with a routine, there is still a need to change directions unexpectedly, or completely alter a routine to deal with the fact that other couples are also dancing.

In competition, there is never a place in the routine where lead-and-follow are not taking place. Most of the steps you perform in competition dancing require a special attention to lead and follow; you see this aspect where good competitive couples can make the dancing appear to take no effort, and therefore appears that no lead-and-follow is happening.

Men - Tto truly lead well you must know the lady's part to every figure you do. The leader truly has to do everything at once; he's got to listen to the music, decide what to do and how to do it, think not only about his own movements but about his partner's and those of all the other couples, etc., etc. And to make matters worse, when beginning his dancing career the man has to learn how to do everything at once, at once. Yes, the follower has to be able to perform a lot of actions, but the leader has to be able to perform and initiate them. In addition, there are many variations that differ only in detail matters of raising an arm or not, or something subtle like that, and the leader has to be aware of the differences, and has to indicate clearly where the movement is going.

Women - Following skills are as equally important as leading skills. A dance is much more enjoyable when the leader need only give firm, not forceful, leads to his partner to indicate what is wanted, and when a partner senses body movements that serve as leads. For this to work, the lady must become sensitive and responsive to the feel (and sometimes sight) of leads, and not expect that her partner will (literally) carry her through the dance. The skill of following is greatly underestimated. Ballroom Dancing is a partner sport - each person has to carry his/her load, or the whole thing fails.

A Word From the Master

Keep in mind these words from the ultimate male lead, Fred Astaire:

"Above all, be yourself! Dancing should be a form of self-expression. Whatever else you may do, don't make the mistake of being an unimaginative copyist. Don't be a slave to steps or routines.

After you have been dancing for a time, you will find that you do the Foxtrot, the Waltz or the Tango just a little bit differently from anyone else. You have developed your own individual style. That is nothing to worry over. On the contrary, there would be more cause for worry if you did not develop a style of your own. Styles in dancing are developed just as inevitably as styles in writing or painting. The dancer without individual style is no more than a mechanical robot.

For ballroom dancing, remember that your partners have their own distinctive styles also. Cultivate flexibility. Be able to adapt your style to that of your partner. In doing so, you are not surrendering your individuality, but blending it with that of your partner."

From THE FRED ASTAIRE TOP HAT DANCE ALBUM, A COMPREHENSIVE COMPENDIUM ON BALLROOM DANCING, 1936

Gregory Oliver Hines (1946–2003) spent his boyhood days at Harlem’s Apollo Theater with his brother Maurice, watching tap dancers like Chuck Green, Charles “Honi” Coles, Teddy Hale, The Nicholas Brothers and Howard “Sandman” Sims. Between performances, the hoofers would gather in the dimly lit, costume-cluttered basement to jam on the worn-in rehearsal floor. It was here, trading steps with tap legends, that Hines fell in love with the artform and learned how to develop his own rhythms. “They really loved him, because he could think on his feet and didn’t have any fear,” says Hines’ brother Maurice.

A true triple threat, Gregory Hines ultimately became one of tap’s most recognized performers and preservers of the art. He appeared in major motion pictures, on television and on Broadway, and for more than half a century, he carried on the tap lineage, eventually sharing it with a new generation of tappers. And in October 2009, Dance Affiliates launched a 10-week national tour of Thank You Gregory, A Tribute to the Legends of Tap to honor the man who bridged the generations and transformed rhythm tap into a respected dance style.

Born on February 14, 1946, in New York’s Washington Heights neighborhood, Hines began his formal tap training at age 3 with Henry LeTang. Two years later, he and 8-year-old Maurice were performing professionally as “The Hines Kids.” They toured the world, dancing in nightclubs, theaters and on TV shows, including three dozen appearances on “The Tonight Show.” In 1954, the brothers made their Broadway debut in The Girl in Pink Tights and in 1964, their father, Maurice Hines Sr., joined the touring act (renamed “Hines, Hines & Dad”) as a drummer.

But unfortunately, the Hines brothers caught the tail end of an era. While their fame was slowly rising, tap’s popularity declined. Big bands fell out of fashion and jazz nightclubs shuttered. And Broadway, encouraged by the success of West Side Story, turned to ballet and jazz as storytelling forms. The hoofers who had mentored young Gregory had a difficult time finding work. Even Hines found himself pulling away from tap. In the early 1970s, after months of soul-searching, Hines left his family act, his first wife and their 2-year-old daughter, Daria, and fled to Venice Beach, California, where he formed the jazz-rock ensemble Severance and adopted the hippie lifestyle.

Five years later, Hines returned to his passion. He moved back to New York and soon landed a role alongside Maurice in the musical revue Eubie! (1978), which was being choreographed by LeTang. This performance earned the natural rhythm-maker his first Tony nomination, which was followed by two more for his work in Comin’ Uptown (1979) and Sophisticated Ladies (1981). Ten years later, Hines finally took home a Tony Award for his lead role in Jelly’s Last Jam (1992).

As Hines’ career blossomed, he continued to make tap more visible while pushing the genre’s boundaries. He broke away from the polished, foursquare tempos of the 1930s to captivate audiences with hard, roughed-up, low-to-the-ground, free-flowing, funky rhythms—movements expanded by his protégé Savion Glover and generations to come. “He felt tap should be as modern and new as Twyla Tharp. Top hats and tails were out, tight Armani T-shirts were in,” says close friend and tap historian Jane Goldberg.

In the 1985 film White Nights, Hines tapped to contemporary music and went toe-to-toe with ballet virtuoso Mikhail Baryshnikov. “This film put both artforms on equal footing. It said, ‘This tap dancer and tap dance are at the same level as Mikhail in ballet,’” says Tony Waag, the artistic director of the American Tap Dance Foundation. Hines also starred in Francis Ford Coppola’s Harlem jazz club crime-drama The Cotton Club and 1989’s Tap, a movie that experimented with rock music and brought together a teenage Glover and legends like Sandman Sims, Jimmy Slyde and Bunny Briggs. “He made tap cool to young people in terms of using contemporary music and innovating how we use our feet,” says hoofer Jason Samuels Smith. “He was the motivating force behind our whole generation’s movement.”

Having witnessed the older generations struggle through tap’s dormancy, Hines made tireless efforts to ensure tap’s vitality in the 21st century. When Congress was considering legislation to create National Tap Dance Day, Hines showed up in Washington, DC, to speak to the Congressional Black Caucus. This day has been celebrated on May 25 since 1989. In 2001, Hines helped Waag launch Tap City, a New York tap festival, and just a week before he died, Hines was supposed to participate in the inaugural Los Angeles Tap Festival. “It was so humbling for me to hear how eager he was to be a part of it,” says Samuels Smith, the festival’s co-creator.

On August 9, 2003, Hines passed away at age 57, after a 13-month battle with liver cancer. While his passing was a great loss, he left a timeless legacy through his generous support of the tap community. Hines used to say he was “just a tap dancer,” says Maurice. “I told him, ‘You’re not just a tap dancer, you’re the tap dancer.’”

Teaching dance in a K–12 setting means working with students with a wide range of abilities: Not everyone can execute a perfect grand jeté or double pirouette. Adding special education students to the mix is an extra challenge: Will they be able to keep up? Do you have to slow down your class? If a student also has a mental or physical disability, how can you prevent him or her from feeling excluded or discriminated against?

The good news is that you don’t have to make drastic changes in order to welcome special ed students into your dance class. Eight experts offer advice on working with this population, and all concur that you should approach them as you would any student, by assessing their learning styles and doing your best to meet their needs.

Brad Roth, a teaching artist and founder/director of the Connecticut-based company Dancing Day, who specializes in working with students with disabilities, emphasizes this point. “If there’s a single word that can be a guiding directive, it’s ‘inclusion’—to create activities that include everyone,” says Roth, who calls his work “Shared Ability Dance.”

Here are six tips to help you include special ed students and make sure they get the most out of your dance class.

1. Build good relationships with the special ed teacher, aides and parents to familiarize yourself with each student and his or her particular needs. Doris Trujillo, Utah State Office of Education dance consultant and Utah Valley State College assistant dance professor, believes doing this will also help you develop a good relationship with the child.

At Fort Mill High School in Fort Mill, South Carolina, the special ed classroom teacher and teaching aide set their students’ goals for the dance class, and the aide attends the class with the students. FMHS dance teacher Elizabeth Hayes works closely with the aide, who helps students master difficult steps.

2. Provide plenty of options. Many educators find that they often don’t have to change class significantly for special ed students. In most cases, modifications have more to do with written work than with the physical part of the class, says Wrenn Cook, director of South Carolina Center for Dance Education in Columbia, SC. For example, if you give a written dance vocabulary test, you might test the special education student orally, or find a different method altogether.

Investigate different ways to accomplish the same objectives and goals, says Trujillo, particularly if you have a student with a physical disability. “Develop patterns and strategies for dealing with circumstances that might be challenging,” she advises. “Have an open mind and accept the possibility that they may look and move differently.”

To this end, Roth assesses his students’ various abilities and carefully plans exercises accordingly, including the instructions, in order to make sure everyone in the room will be able to participate in some way. “If you were to travel across the floor and jump in the middle, you might tell them that a jump can be done with the eyes,” he explains, “or that turning can also be done by drawing a circle in the air.”

3. Look at your class with a choreographer’s eye, recommends Atlanta-based choreographer, performer and teacher Celeste Miller. “I think, ‘At this moment in time, these students are my company, so what are the skills they need?’” says Miller, who developed the Curriculum-in-Motion program at Jacob’s Pillow in Becket, Massachusetts. For two weeks each summer, she uses choreographic methods to teach an academic curriculum to a mixed-abilities group of high school students. “We specifically focus on being sensitive to the fact that there are different learning styles to be addressed,” she says.

This approach can also be helpful when dealing with students who have physical disabilities. In fact, the American Alliance for Health, Physical Education, Recreation and Dance has developed a workshop and companion book that detail a “re-envisioning process” for incorporating students with physical challenges. The process involves “not looking at the individual’s disability as a deviation but rather as something that can help define the pattern, form, shape and direction of the dance,” says AAHPERD Executive Director Jan Seaman. “The intent is not to make the disabled dancers look and move like the able-bodied dancers, but to use their distinctions as part of the dance motif.”

4. Provide a challenge. It’s not necessary to dumb down your lessons, says Miller. “I found that students really appreciate being challenged, rather than having the work moderated down for them,” she says. Caroline Hoadley, the dance teacher at Bluffton Elementary School in Bluffton, SC, adds, “I start out expecting that they can do everything. Usually I include [special ed students], and I find that they are eager to do what everybody else is doing.”

Certainly there are instances in which modifications must be made. Trujillo, who has a special-needs son, sees the issue from the perspectives of both parent and teacher. “I want him to be looked at in the same way that all the students are seen, and viewed with those same expectations,” she explains. “But there is also an understanding that things may need to be slowed down, modified or simplified.”

5. Find common ground. In a mixed-abilities class, it is especially important to help all of the students feel comfortable with one another. For special ed students who spend most of their day in a self-contained classroom, this is a great opportunity to socialize with other students and focus on the things they have in common, rather than what sets them apart. With this in mind, Roth recommends encouraging students to share information about themselves—birthdays, siblings, pets, etc. “It reinforces the sense of commonality,” he says. One way to foster relationships among students is through peer tutoring, Trujillo adds, in which a special ed student is paired with a mainstream one.

The way you interact with special ed students also will determine their comfort level in class. Lenore Grunko, a former dance teacher at Woodstock Middle School in Woodstock, Connecticut, makes it a practice to never single anyone out. She says this ranks among her students’ greatest fears, and she does her best to allay this concern by giving global corrections. “Everybody does the same thing at the same time. Nobody stands out and nobody watches,” she says.

6. Be patient. As a teacher, this is a virtue at which you’ve already had plenty of practice. Still, taking some extra time to review a step can bring great rewards—for both you and your students. “It may take longer to teach a very basic skill, but [this population] is very receptive, open, curious,” says Miller. “I find them the warmest audience to work with.”

Clockwise, from top left: Oklahoma's five Indian ballerinas are Maria Tallchief, Marjorie Tallchief, Yvonne Chouteau, Moscelyne Larkin and Rosella Hightower. The Oklahoman Archive

Clockwise from top left - Maria Tallchief, Marjorie Tallchief, YvonneChoutau, Moscelyne Larkin and Rosella Hightower

During a 1982 interview, American Indian ballerina Yvonne Chouteau spoke of how her heritage had enriched her dancing.

"The Indian people are very artistic as a whole," Chouteau was reported saying in a New York News Service interview. "We are also very non-verbal, and so I think dance is a perfect expression of the Indian soul."

Although having differing Indian backgrounds, perhaps it was a similar spirit that helped propel five young women forward to enjoy and perfect their art and become known as Oklahoma's "Five Indian Ballerinas."

Maria and Marjorie Tallchief, Rosella Hightower, Moscelyne Larkin and Yvonne Chouteau danced their way into the hearts of art lovers throughout the world. The five ballerinas had the skills and the techniques that all dancers needed, but unlike many dancers, the five ballerinas had the spirit and passion credited to their American Indian heritage and Oklahoma roots.

Maria and Marjorie Tallchief are of Osage heritage; Rosella Hightower of Choctaw heritage; Moscelyne Larkin of half-Shawnee-Peoria heritage; and Yvonne Chouteau of Shawnee-Cherokee heritage. Devoting hours to rehearsals and performances, each was given the title as prima ballerina in their company — a title not given to all ballet dancers. After years of performing, each dancer established or expanded dance companies in cities including Oklahoma City, Tulsa, Boca Raton, Fla., and Paris, France.

The five American Indian ballerinas proudly represented their Oklahoma Indian heritage. The ballerinas grew up dancing to traditional American Indian dances, while at the same time their families encouraged them to take ballet lessons.

As a result of their impact in the world of dance and the proud heritage each holds in their heart, the five ballerinas were named Oklahoma's treasures by former Gov. Frank Keating in 1997. They were honored with a mural, "Flight of Spirit," in the state Capitol rotunda. The mural artist, Mike Larsen, is an Oklahoma resident of Chickasaw descent.

At Right - Flight of Spirit

The painting shows the past and the present of Oklahoma history and the contribution these five ballerinas have made to the arts and to Oklahoma, said Amber Sharples, visual arts director for the Oklahoma Arts Council.

On November 17, 1991, these five friends enjoyed a rare reunion during the dedication of the Flight of Spirit. The mural merges the tragic history of Native Americans with the hope and renewal of modern accomplishments. Behind the illuminated ballerinas is Larson’s depiction of the Trail of Tears. Five geese soar over the displaced Native Americans. The geese symbolize the grace and spirit of the five ballerinas. Mike Larsen's depiction of the ballerinas is strictly representational in that the painted figures have analogous facial features and proportions.

Flight of Spirit is located above the fourth floor rotunda of the Oklahoma State Capitol and can be seen from both the fourth floor and the fifth floor gallery.

First born in 1920, Choctaw Rosella Hightower came from a large family in Durwood, close to Lake Murray. Hightower toured internationally and was engaged in an enormous repertory, including the “Black Swan” pas de deux with Rudolf Nureyev in his 1961 London debut. A year later she started l’Ecole Superieure de Dance in Cannes, which integrated jazz, contemporary dance, and classical ballet. She later served as Director of the Marseilles Opera Ballet and the Ballet of Paris Opera. In 1975, the French government named Miss Hightower a Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur, the country’s premier honor. Sadly, Ms. Hightower passed away on November 4, 2008.

The next oldest, Moscelyne Larkin was born in Miami, OK, in 1925, to a Shawnee-Peoria Indian and a Russian dancer, who trained her. She joined the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo in 1948, dancing many leading roles, and later enjoyed being featured as the prima ballerina at Radio City Music Hall.

Betty Marie (later Maria) and Marjorie Tall Chief were Osage sisters born only a year apart. In fact, Maria’s birthdate was only ten days after Larkin’s, on January 24, 1925. Upon high school graduation, Maria became an apprentice with Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. Later, as she was headed toward becoming the highest paid prima ballerina of the era, the company requested that Maria change her name to Maria Tallchieva. Proud of her Osage heritage, Maria refused, but finally compromised on “Maria Tallchief.” She married famed Russian choreographer George Balanchine, who created her signature roles in “The Firebird,” “Swan Lake,” and “The Nutcracker,” among others. Today she is still popularly known as “Oklahoma’s Firebird.” Even though the marriage to Balanchine ended, their artistic collaboration continued for many years through the New York Ballet.

Maria’s younger sister, Marjorie, born in 1926, became the first American Indian to become premiere danseuse etoile with the Paris Opera. Known for her classic, dignified style, she worked with the American Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, the Grand Ballet du Marquis de Cuevas, Ruth Page’s Chicago Opera Ballet, and the Harkness Ballet.

The youngest of Oklahoma’s ballerinas, Shawnee Yvonne Chouteau, born 1929, descends from Major Jean Pierre Chouteau, who established the state’s oldest white settlement in what is now Salina, in 1796. Only 14, Chouteau was the youngest American ever accepted by the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. In 1960 they established the University of Oklahoma’s ballet program, the nation’s first accredited dance degree. They went on to organize the Oklahoma City Civic Ballet in 1963 (now Ballet Oklahoma), which they ran for ten years.

There have also been 5 bronze statues, one of each ballerina in costume in a signature role, created for the Vintage Gardens of the Tulsa Historial Society. These statues are called "The Five Moons". There was also a ballet created especially to honor them titled "The Four Moons". It contains 4 solo dance parts to honor the heritage of the ballerinas - since Maria and Marjorie Tallchief are both Osage, their heritage shares one solo dance part, hence the 4 instead of 5.

First row, from left to right: Yvonne Chouteau (Shawnee Tribe), Rosella Hightower(Choctaw Tribe), Moscelyne Larkin (Peoria-Shawnee tribe)

Second row, left, Marjorie Tallchief, (Osage Nation), and then her sister Maria Tallchief.

During a 1997 Oklahoman interview, Chouteau recalled her feelings when the five ballerinas reunited in Oklahoma in 1967 to dance "The Four Moons."

"To stand in the wings and watch Rosella Hightower, even at rehearsal gave me goose bumps," Chouteau said. "To watch Marjorie; to see the unique artistry.

"You could see so clearly the Indian heritage. It was uncanny, just uncanny, the way her feet would touch the floor and leave it. Only an Indian could touch like that fleet, fleet of foot."

Although the women traveled all over the world, they were still able to start their own families.

Elise Paschen, daughter of Maria Tallchief, said her earliest memories are being a backstage baby. "My mother is a beautiful dancer," she said. "She is still a beautiful woman, but when she danced, you could not take your eyes away from her."

Paschen said she's proud of her mother and her aunt Marjorie for being able to juggle motherhood and artistry. "Both women were dedicated mothers," she said. "The proudest moment in her life was having me."

Maria Tallchief founded the Chicago City Ballet in 1981 after retiring as a dancer. She now resides in Chicago.

Marjorie Tallchief accepted the position of director of dance for the Harid Conservatory in Boca Raton, Fla., until her retirement where she now resides.

Miguel Terekhov, husband of Yvonne Chouteau, said his wife was a beautiful dancer as well.

After having their first child together, Terekhov and Chouteau decided to move to Oklahoma. They now live in Oklahoma City.

"I think it was fate that we came to Oklahoma," Terekhov said. "Oklahoma has been good to us and has acknowledged the work that we have done."

In 1960, Chouteau and Terekhov founded and designed the dance program at the University of Oklahoma. They also helped organize the Oklahoma City Civic Ballet now called Oklahoma City Ballet.

"She will always be a treasure to me," Terekhov said. "I am very proud of my wife's accomplishment."

Robert Mills, artistic director of the Oklahoma City Ballet, said that without the works of Chouteau and Terekhov, he would not be there today. "What I admire most about Yvonne and Miguel is their dedication for their art and the roads that they have paved for others to follow," he said. "I hope they would be proud of how far Oklahoma City Ballet has gone."

Mills has also worked with Larkin at the Tulsa City Ballet, which Larkin founded. "Larkin's presence is larger than life," Mills said. "She is wonderful. She is extremely fun and full of life."

Larkin was famous for her high jumps and fast turns, and was called "the first ray of sunshine" after the war by London critics. She now lives in Tulsa.

In 2008, Hightower passed away in her home in Paris. She had suffered from a series of strokes. She was 88 years old. Russ Tall Chief, great-nephew of Maria and Marjorie, said the women admired each other's techniques and talents. The death of Hightower made an impression on the four women.

Although Yvonne Chouteau declined an in-person interview, she wrote that their American Indian pride, their dancing, their talent and their accomplishments were what she admired most about herself and her fellow dancers.

Terekhov said, "It is our responsibility to pass down what we have been given to us, to others. We have been able to pass down our knowledge to great young people who have done a wonderful job. I hope the next generation will do the same."

As commercials blare advertisements for cortisol controlling supplements to help you lose weight, billboards boast a way to remove negative hormones, and doctors on television remind you how bad stress can be for your body, you may find yourself asking some questions: What is cortisol, how is it connected to stress, and how does it affect my body?

Cortisol is a hormone. It gets released when you get stressed out. More precisely, it is a 21 carbon molecule that runs around your body like a busy bee, performing a variety of functions; some of these functions are good, some are not so good.

Cortisol is produced by the zona fasciculate of the adrenal cortex, which itself belongs to the adrenal gland. This is the same place that produces adrenaline, another chemical response your body produces when under stress. And during the holiday season, dancers often feel extra stress.

When something stressful occurs, such as your teacher correcting your form for the eighty ninth time, performing in The Nutcracker nearly every evening, or learning you have three midterms instead of one, your body begins to launch its stress response system. This means you start to produce adrenaline and cortisol.

Cortisol decreases your sensitivity to pain, gives you a short burst of energy, improves your short term memory, and activates your immune system. All of these things are super helpful when you’re confronted with a dangerous situation, such as a physical fight or diving out of the way of a boulder a la Indiana Jones.

Stress isn't always a bad thing. "Our responses to stress are supposed to be helpful," explains Dr. Richard Gibbs, MD, supervising physician at San Francisco Ballet and the chair of the Dance/USA Task Force on dancer health. In intensely stressful moments, the endocrine system and the sympathetic nervous system work together to release higher levels of cortisol and adrenaline. In an audition, for instance, this can actually benefit a dancer. "You're going to be more alert, pick up choreography faster, and move more assuredly," says Dr. Gibbs.

Stress, defined as any taxing of the body’s natural resources, occurs constantly in all living things and causes your body to work harder, therefore requiring more energy to function properly; stress can include anything from exercise to fighting with your coach to working on a particularly challenging Sudoku puzzle.

However, when dealing with stress on a consistent, long term basis, this over-stimulation can and will tax your body till it’s severely depleted: energy stores disappear, the muscles become overworked, bones weaken, and even our brains fail to function at full capacity as our body continually attempts to function on empty.

Its positive effects quickly turn harmful, which can have a big impact on your dancing. Too much adrenaline, for instance, keeps you in "fight or flight" mode, which leads to anxiety and fatigue. This slows down your reflexes and thinking processes, so learning choreography becomes a challenge. Extra adrenaline also makes your heart beat faster, speeds up your breathing, and makes you sweat more. (This is why staying hydrated is key.)

Because stress also causes an increase in cortisol levels, dancers are susceptible to all kinds of viral infections, since cortisol lowers immune system resistance. Cortisol also activates your gastrointestinal tract, which leads to more acid in the stomach, causing peptic ulcers. But perhaps most significantly, stress creates the perfect breeding ground for injury--and makes healing more difficult. "When stressful situations are on the line, injury rates go sky-high," Dr. Gibbs explains. "This is because cortisol actually weakens tissue and bone."

On a psychological level, stress also does damage. "Irritability is more likely," says Dr. Harlene Goldschmidt, PhD, director of education and wellness at the New Jersey Dance Theatre Ensemble. "It's easier to lose control of your emotions." She also adds that stressed-out dancers often have trouble taking criticism, causing them to miss out on valuable feedback (and jeopardize a relationship with a teacher or director).

So how do you reduce the effects of stress? In addition to the obvious (like get eight hours of sleep), Dr. Gibbs suggests low-impact aerobic activity like riding a stationary bike, walking, or going for an easy jog one to three times a week. "If I have a stressed-out dancer, I recommend exercise," he says. "It releases endorphins, and reduces injury and cholesterol. It's the number one treatment for depression and anxiety."

Cheap, Easy Ways to De-Stress

Do something outside the dance world. Go to the movies, a museum, or a bookstore.

Connect with nature. Go for a walk, a hike, or a swim.

Hang out with friends.

Treat yourself to a massage.

Go to a yoga or meditation class.

Take a relaxing bath at the end of the day.

While there is no such thing as a stress-free environment, especially in the athletic realm, it is still important that your life maintain some semblance of peace and balance.

Check in with yourself before and during practice—if you feel stressed out, use imagery, deep breathing, and gentle stretches to find relief and stabilize the body. Take the time to warm up before practice and guide yourself to a state of focus and calm, not overly pumped up and stressed out. This will provide a bit of respite, help control your breathing, and give you a clear mind to deal with the anxiety that is sure to seep in later.

Remember, while some level of stress and competition can push you to do your best, too much can have the exact opposite effect. Learn to control cortisol before it takes hold of your body - and your performance.

At Right - George Balanchine examining a costume plus 2 more designs by Karinska

The costumes created by Barbara Karinska (1886–1983) go hand in hand with the history of 20th-century ballet. Starting with her work for the Ballets Russes companies, through her longtime affiliation with George Balanchine and New York City Ballet, Karinska was the authority on outfitting dancers.

Born Varvara Andryevna Zmoudsky on October 3, 1886, in the city of Kharkov, Ukraine, Karinska was the eldest of 10 children. Her father was a successful textile merchant, while her mother stayed home to care for the family. They led a life of upper-class privilege, with European governesses, elegant dinners and instruction in the art of embroidery, a skill that would become vitally important to Karinska’s future.

In her teens, Karinska studied law at the University of Kharkov and volunteered at a local women’s prison. At age 20, she married Alexander Moïssenko, a newspaper editor with whom she had one daughter, Irene. When her husband died of typhus after only four years of marriage, Karinska took over his position at the newspaper—an unheard of move for a woman at the time.

But as the political situation leading to the Russian Revolution began to heat up, she closed the newspaper and moved to Moscow. There, she set up a shop selling embroidery and linens, and married her second husband, Nicholas Karinsky, a government official in St. Petersburg. This marriage also ended prematurely—as the Bolsheviks took power, her husband fled the country, leaving Karinska and her daughter behind. (Karinsky actually drove a taxi in New York City for 20 years until his death, but his wife did not know, thinking him dead years earlier.)

Karinska got her chance to escape a few years later. After running a variety of shops for several years, she was offered a government post as the Commissar of Museums. She requested that she be sent to Germany to educate herself more for the position, but instead fled to Brussels with an orphaned nephew and her daughter, in whose clothing Karinska stitched the remaining family jewels.

She soon moved to Paris, where she struggled to make a living by crocheting shawls and flowers, and making traditional Russian headdresses. Slowly, she began to receive costuming commissions from cabarets and operettas. Her most important commission came in 1931 from the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, for Balanchine’s ballet Cotillon.

In 1939, she set sail for the United States, escaping Europe before the onslaught of World War II. Once settled, her first commission was for a serpent for the New York World’s Fair. The serpent was so long that it required two taxis—Karinska held the head in one, and her assistants brought the tail in the other, as the two cars drove side by side to the exhibition hall. She continued to create costumes for the Ballets Russes companies and added the burlesque star Gypsy Rose Lee to her roster.

A few years later, in 1942, Karinska created the costumes for Agnes de Mille’s ballet Rodeo. In what would become her modus operandi, her seamstresses carried the still unfinished pieces in a fleet of taxis, arriving at the theater moments before the curtain rose. Dancers were sewn into their costumes in the theatre’s wings. Of this anxiety-producing process, de Mille remarked, “Why does anyone hire her a second time? Simply, she is without a peer in her field.”

Karinska drew the notice of Hollywood in the 1940s, and was hired to work on many films, creating costumes for such actors as Gary Cooper, Ingrid Bergman, Judy Garland and Ginger Rogers. For the 1948 film Joan of Arc, Karinska won an Academy Award for Costume Design, but left movie costuming behind soon afterward, turning her attention back to New York—to opera, theater and ballet, with the occasional commission from Ice Capades or Ice Follies.

Of all the companies and productions that Karinska costumed, it was Balanchine and his NYCB to which she said she “gave her heart.” In fact, de Mille once declared that she and others always suspected that Karinska charged them exorbitant fees so that she could hold costs down for Balanchine.

In 1949, Balanchine asked Karinska to design the costumes for Bourrée Fantasque. Up until this time, her ballet costumes had been made from other people’s designs, but designing and constructing gave Karinska a wealth of freedom to create signature costumes for such Balanchine ballets as Symphony in C (which premiered in 1947, but was re-costumed by Karinska in 1950) and The Nutcracker (1954).

Her stunning and technically inventive creations allowed dancers to move easily and even inspired movement. Ballet bodices of the time were normally modeled on a corset and often restricted mobility, but Karinska cut the side panels on the bias (the diagonal), which created an elasticity that allowed room for the rib cage to expand and the dancer to breathe more freely. She added small touches that only a dancer would see, such as a rose on the underskirt, as well as elaborate details on the visible elements, all of which made dancers feel special. As current NYCB principal Sterling Hyltin once said of wearing Karinska’s Dewdrop costume, “You just feel beautiful.”

Another one of Karinska’s innovations was the so-called “powder-puff” tutu. Instead of using wire in the skirts to hold a classical tutu straight out at a 90-degree angle, she used layer upon layer of tulle to create the same effect, but with a softer quality. This eliminated situations in which two tutus would flip straight up because they were too close together.

The designer was also known for her choice of unusual color palettes and was very astute about the effects of stage lights. Instead of using one color of tulle in the layers of a costume, she used several colors to create depth and fullness. She preferred natural fibers to synthetics and employed sumptuous details, drawing on her years of fine embroidery work for glorious results. The New York Times critic John Martin described her costumes as “visual music,” underscoring the integral nature of her designs to the ballets for which they were created, and the way they enhanced and intensified the overall effect of the productions.

She received the Capezio Dance Award in 1962, with the commendation that “‘Costumes by Karinska’ has long since become a promise of complete visual beauty for the spectator and complete delight for the dancer, be it Prima Ballerina, Premier Danseur or as a member of the Corps de Ballet.”

In 1963, the Ford Foundation gave NYCB a multimillion-dollar grant, and with a portion of it Balanchine was able to ask Karinska, at the age of 77, to create costumes exclusively for NYCB in the company’s own costume shop. She designed the intricately detailed costumes for Jewels (1967) and Vienna Waltzes (1977), and executed the designs for many other ballets.

Shortly before the première of Vienna Waltzes, Karinska suffered a massive stroke. For the next six years, she clung to life, but without ever regaining speech or memory. On October 18, 1983, she passed away.

Karinska’s lasting influence on the world of costuming is immense. It is no coincidence that many ballet masterpieces of the 20th century have costumes designed or executed by her. Not only are her designs stunningly beautiful, but they were made with an astute understanding of what is required of dancers. Her creations live on as the ballets she costumed continue to be performed by NYCB and other companies around the world.

Donald McKayle coaches Montclair State University dancers.

A semicircle of 13 chairs faces the packed bleachers at an annual event organized by the dance program at New Jersey’s Montclair State University. In the chairs sit MSU theater professor Neil Baldwin and the 12 student danceaturges, who, under his mentorship, spent the past semester analyzing choreographies composing the department’s yearlong Americana repertory and spring concert, working in a unique manner he describes as “from the inside out.” The danceaturges excitedly swap stories and pose questions to each other and an attentive audience of students and faculty. Baldwin listens eagerly, intervening occasionally to suggest a new prompt.

Within the last four years, a noteworthy sea change has occurred in the theoretical direction and ambitions of the dance program at Montclair State. The shift revolves around the innovation and application of danceaturgy, a new process of exploring the layers of performance works and the experience of a performing artist through exercises in writing, critical and imaginative thinking, personal reflection on kinesthetic experience, group discussion and historical research. After four years as an informal offering, the department recently elected to make danceaturgy a permanent and prioritized aspect of their future curriculum by formalizing it as an academic class offered for credit.

The concept was generated by Baldwin, who is also a widely published author and cultural historian. When he arrived at Montclair State in 2006, Baldwin’s only connection to the dance world was the wall his office shared with dance department chair Lori Katterhenry. Their physical proximity provided opportunities for frequent conversations, and mutual esteem and curiosity about each other’s work ensued. Katterhenry began to take note of ways that, although inadvertently, Baldwin was sparking the curiosity of her students and faculty, and how his physical presence and watchful eyes in rehearsals he sat in on inspired dancers to take new interest in the work they were doing. “His attention changed the chemistry of what we were doing,” she says. Dancers looked at their work with new attention and sought words to explain their experiences as movement artists. She liked what she observed and proposed that Baldwin teach a new course, similar to the dramaturgy class that he offered theater students, tailored to dancers and their medium.

In the world of theater, “dramaturgy” refers to the construction and deconstruction of dramatic work. A dramaturge typically conducts detailed and comprehensive research and becomes the resident expert on the physical and social milieus and the psychological underpinnings of a play and its characters. They also engage in in-depth study of the play as a piece of writing, through deep analysis of its formal elements, such as structure, rhythm and diction. They are able to provide valuable advice to directors during rehearsals and to make sure that the play works as a unified whole that will be decipherable to an audience. Dramaturgy is not a new concept to the dance world; however, Baldwin and Katterhenry felt the dramaturgy process needed to be refined and finessed for dance. Rather than looking at works as an observer, separate from the construction and creative process, and functioning only as consultants, their danceaturges would unpack choreography with which they were kinesthetically engaged and use their bodies as investigative instruments. They would learn to be both performer and spectator.

Experimenting with how to work as a danceaturge, Baldwin attended rehearsals for the college’s restaging of Martha Graham’s Steps in the Street. He interviewed Denise Vale of The Graham Company, who set the work on the students, and began tracing the chronology and context of the original piece. The dancers were amazed by the care and specificity he put into his research, and the depth of his thinking inspired many to deepen their own consideration of the choreography and its significance. His work showed students the value of taking time to deeply investigate the nature of their daily work, and his questions taught them the importance of being able to speak about their relationship with dance. However, his elaborate research lacked a crucial perspective for danceaturgical work: the experiential component.

This is where the students stepped in, and the trial course got off the ground. The faculty invited 10 students with exceptional writing skills to participate. Some of these students were nervous about squeezing another commitment in between classes and rehearsals, especially when most had only the vaguest idea of what this work would entail.

At the first meeting, Baldwin asked his students, “How does your physical experience inform your sense of meaning? And how does a sense of cultural context help your ability to perform?” They had the semester to consider these questions on their own, in written reactions to historical research that Baldwin provided and, most importantly, in conversation. The 10 students brought these questions to their fellow cast members and their choreographers, and they met weekly in a seminar forum led by Baldwin. “It’s not about answers,” Baldwin says. “It’s about exploration, critical thinking and empowering students to consider why they’re doing what they’re doing and how they convey this to an audience.”

This process allowed the students to appreciate new dimensions of the roles they performed. For instance, senior Sharrod Williams danced in Donald McKayle’s Rainbow Étude, and, with Baldwin’s encouragement, investigated the piece’s origin and the lives of chain gang workers like those represented in the dance. It enhanced the way he understood and approached the movement, and his dancing felt more human, empathetic and specific.

“It changed the way I approach a piece,” says junior Colleen Lynch. “My focus shifted from counts and costumes to society, community and getting a personal feeling for what I was doing and my relationship with this artform.” Recent graduate Melissa Sande, who worked with Baldwin for two years, agrees. “The pieces remained technically good, but they took on a new depth,” she says. For an aspiring choreographer like Sande, danceaturgy helped her figure out what she wants to say as an artist, who she wants to say it to and how she can make her vision legible. These are great sources of empowerment as she steps out into the professional world.

One might not expect to find a residential arts high school in South Carolina that’s backed 100 percent by the state government. While many states have been eliminating their governor’s school programs due to budget cuts, the South Carolina Governor’s School for the Arts and Humanities is celebrating its 13th anniversary as a year-round program.

Since the school opened its doors in Greenville in 1999, the dance department has become known for exceptional classical training. Former students include New York City Ballet principal Sara Mearns and American Ballet Theatre corps members Joseph Phillips and Gray Davis. Other former students have gone on to join Boston Ballet, San Francisco Ballet, the Joffrey Ballet and Miami City Ballet.

The school stands out not only because of the quality of the training, but also because the state of South Carolina makes this training available to students of all backgrounds. “Because we’re state-funded, we can take talented people who could not afford serious dance training otherwise,” says dance department chair and artistic director Stanislav Issaev. “Everyone here is on full scholarship. If people really want to dance, we can train them.”

Building a School

The umbrella term “governor’s school” refers to any residential program for gifted high-schoolers funded by the state. Governors’ schools for the arts exist in New York, Kentucky, Virginia, Tennessee, California, West Virginia, Delaware, Missouri, North Dakota, Vermont and South Carolina; many other states offer similar programs for academic enrichment, though the focus, intensity and duration vary. But with the economic downturn, many are losing funding—arts and academic alike. Currently, the South Carolina Governor’s School for the Arts and Humanities is the only residential year-round governor’s school specializing in the arts.

Established in 1980, SCGSAH was originally a summer intensive housed at Furman University. In the mid-’90s, then-director Dr. Virginia Uldrick, a musician, teacher and arts activist, felt that her state could offer more to its student artists. She approached state lawmakers to discuss the expansion of the program into a residential high school.

“The state’s eventual answer was, ‘We’ll give you funding if you can raise half of the initial investment on your own,’” says Julie Allen, interim dean of SCGSAH. “So, the school was originally built as a public/private collaboration.” After Greenville was chosen to house the school, the county and city jointly donated 8.5 acres for the new campus. And in 1999, after years of research, meetings and unprecedented fundraising efforts on Uldrick’s part, a school was born.

Today, the dance program at SCGSAH is open to 10th-, 11th- and 12th-graders, while students in the other disciplines—drama, creative writing, visual arts and music—can attend in 11th or 12th grades. The school’s maximum enrollment is 242 students, approximately 35 of whom are dancers, and all students live on campus. Although the school continues to raise money from private entities to provide scholarship support for food fees and summer programs, the yearly operating budget comes entirely from the South Carolina state legislature.

Crafting a Conservatory

Uldrick’s vision was to hire teachers who were masters in their fields. To lead the dance program, she selected Issaev, a Russian native who started his performing career with the Moscow State Ballet Theatre and moved to the United States to join Atlanta Ballet as a principal dancer in 1990. Issaev was on faculty at the University of South Carolina when Uldrick approached him about heading up the new program—an opportunity he jumped at.

To help build the program, Issaev turned to Robert Barnett, former director of Atlanta Ballet, for advice and mentorship. The program was modeled on Robert Lindgren’s University of North Carolina School of the Arts dance department. The ballet curriculum is Vaganova-based, though Issaev says that it’s “updated Vaganova—very modern, and faster than a traditional Russian ballet class.” Students are also exposed to George Balanchine’s style and works through guest teachers and choreographers like Barnett, who performed with New York City Ballet.

Students have academic classes in the morning and arts classes after lunch. During the week, it’s all about ballet: technique, pointe, pas de deux, men’s class, character class and rehearsals. Saturdays are devoted to modern—Horton technique and Cunningham—with classes and repertory 10:30–5. Dancers are divided into intermediate and advanced levels by ability, not grade.

Encouraging Excellence

SCGSAH’s residential high school is open to any high school student (through a rigorous audition and application process) who is a resident of South Carolina. Some students are invited to attend the high school after attending a five-week summer dance intensive, which is open to dancers from 7th to 12th grades and features the same curriculum, taught by the same faculty, as the year-round school, with the addition of guest artists.

“We’re looking for natural ability and talent—coordination, musicality, flexibility,” Issaev says. “Prior training is important, but so is effort and desire. If someone really wants to come to our school, you can see it.”

By nurturing dance talent while promoting academic study, SCGSAH aims to create well-rounded graduates who have an array of opportunities awaiting them. Says Allen, “We want them to be prepared for whatever the next step is: a dance company, a conservatory, a major university or a liberal arts college.”

Allen sees the school’s success as a credit not only to the faculty and administration, but also to the state. “South Carolina may not be known for the arts, or frankly for innovative education, but our legislators have chosen to give us the resources to do this,” she says. “Students who go on to be successful talk about their time here as being formative. That has to do with the arts, yes, but also about finding their place and voice in a community that allowed them to grow.”

"Dance is the only art of which we ourselves are the stuff of which it is made." ~Ted Shawn

Dance has always played an important part in the history of the world. If you would take a peek at the old civilizations, dance was always a signal that something important had happened, will happen or is happening in their worlds. There have been dances that thanked the universe for bountiful harvests while there have also been dances that sought respite from drought and famine. Dances were also used to prepare warriors for battle, to crown Kings and to celebrate marriages. Vaudeville, Broadway and movie musicals brought about new dance styles to be admired and copied.

The importance of dance, in our world today, is significant for a number of different reasons.

What happens when you dance? You are exercising and you are socializing. Exercise helps to promote strong healthy bodies.

Socializing with other people is the best way to keep mentally active and healthy.

Dance is nn expression of one's culture A way to communicate.
We have the freedom to dance. The freedom of dance cannot go unacknowledged, as people from many parts of the globe still do not know the full meaning of true liberty.

Dance can be and often is, a joyful expression of that freedom.

Ballroom dance helps in the socialization of children. It is being used successfully in many inner city schools today to foster social skills, improve study habits, and build self-esteem. Once children are successful in something they become successful in other things. Ballroom dance teaches self-discipline. It teaches how to conduct yourself with the male or female. It teaches courtesy and etiquette.

Ballroom dance also teaches grace, movement, and style. Ballroom dance improves walking. Actors and actresses study ballrooom dance. It helps to promote excellent movement skills on and off the screen. Doctors are now telling people that ballroom dance is good for the heart. Ballroom dance is a nice easy exercise that doesn't challenge the heart, but gives it the right balance of exercise.

Dance is also important as an art form and used in plays, operas, and other stage productions. Modern dance and ballet are used extensively in this venue. And of course tap dance is a great show stopper. Belly dance is also a very expressive dance and is used to help actresses and opera singers learn to be more creative in their movements on stage.

The use of dance in reality shows is a unique phenomenon for our era. Reality shows are now being televised and shown globally. Dancing on an open stage, directly in front of a live audience, while being filmed by television cameras, is only one potential source of entertainment. When this dancing is unedited, people comprehend it on a totally different level. Even the worst would-be dancer, who dances with two left feet, can relate to it.

Internationally, dancing is a very significant and appropriate art form. Dance is loved by people all over the world because it is such a true expression of human art. It helps people to explore their own lives and worlds, as well as to set their bodies, minds and spirits free, while allowing the manifestation of their full artistic potential.

Dancing competitions represent an international challenge. Almost everyone enjoys attempting to do something new. Competing in dance, on various levels, makes it even more exciting. At the same time, all of us can develop an understanding and appreciation of dancing, simply because dancing challenges us mentally, physically and emotionally.

Dancing is an excellent form of physical exercise for anyone, young or old, as it requires the full use of one's energy and physical participation by every part of the body. No one can dispute the health benefits of dance. Likewise, dance offers the unique opportunity of venting our frustrations, of stomping away anger, of leaping with pure joy,of speaking our needs without words, of connecting movement to music that soothes and heals our mind and spirit as well as soul.

Personally, dance has taught me how to gain and maintain self-control of body and mind. The emotions from being able to use it as a form of expression and communication motived me to become more sociable and active.

Dance taught me how to dig deep inside my soul and pull out those strong and effective feelings that I struggle with. You discover yourself by your movements, your timing, grace, speed, creativity, and constructiveness. Dance is a art, it is a tool to influence someone’s emotions, thoughts, and desires.

Dance is a extremely versatile and powerful way of learning to live. It is a way to help solve problems. You can learn to accomplish and succeed by hard work and dedication. Dance has helped me in all of these ways. It has helped my mind to become stronger and more powerful, as well as my emotions to be strengthened.

Dance includes what we want to be, what we are, and what has made us this way. It is a signal of reuniting, or even moving on. Dance makes that body healthy and strong. It also is a way of life for many. Dance is art, communication, expression, exercise, disciple, and a mirror as to you and your world

Dance entertains. It gives joy and sadness, hope and longing, love and fear to both spectators and the dancers themselves. It shares the story of life and is the essence of the gift of life, with all its emotions, good and bad, itself.

"For Freshman/Sophomore dancers auditioning for the BFA program,” reads Florida State University’s School of Dance website, “solos should be between 1–2 minutes in length. The choreography may be their own or by someone else. All auditioning dancers will be asked to perform.”

If you think this sounds vague, you’re not alone. The college audition procedure is mysterious, which can be overwhelming when it’s time to choreograph solos for your students’ auditions. You must figure out how to distill years of training and experience into a few short moments. What are the audition panelists looking for? Faculty members from three universities give insight into the process:

Purchase College, State University of New York

SUNY Purchase’s ballet and modern/contemporary dance program requires a 90-second solo (only performed if a dancer makes the cut after technique class). Because some students are invited to join the ballet track after their freshmen year, the school isn’t looking for a particular style of dance during the solo. “It can be self-choreographed or choreographed by anyone else,” says director of dance Wallie Wolfgruber. “Some people do a ballet variation on pointe, and others do modern floor work.”

For Wolfgruber, the solo should be used to reveal aspects of the dancer, beyond his or her technique, that the panel otherwise wouldn’t see during the class portion of the audition. She is interested in seeing students’ natural movement style. “Maybe they haven’t had a lot of modern or ballet training,” she says. “But we want them to have an opportunity to show what their strengths are as performers, as well as their presence, energy and sense of physicality.”

Oklahoma City University

The dance program at OCU aims to build dancers into “triple threats”—artists who can dance, sing and act. Dance chair Jo Rowan has seen a range of successful solos, from competition pieces to excerpts of Cats and The Phantom of the Opera. (The solo can incorporate dancing and singing.) She stresses that when choreographing, adhering to the time limit is key. Dancers will be cut off at 60 seconds, even if they haven’t finished performing.

Rowan sees the solo as a chance for dancers to show more about themselves as artists and how they communicate with their audience. “We find that people who may not perform so well in class open up and become great performers when they have the freedom to tell a story,” she says. Equally important to Rowan is personality and diligence throughout the stressful process. Can they recover from a misstep with confidence, knowing that there aren’t other dancers to distract from it or hide behind? Audition panelists aren’t just looking for nice lines and pretty movers, but personalities that will persevere in the sometimes difficult arts world. “If they will keep smiling and stick with it, we know they are going to be successful in this business,” Rowan says.

Florida State University

Over many years of watching auditions for FSU’s ballet- and modern-based BFA program, contemporary dance professor Gerri Houlihan has developed clear likes and dislikes. “Watching someone do her solo and watch herself in the mirror drives me crazy,” she says. Another pet peeve is tricks. “I’ll be watching and someone drops into the splits. Or they’re doing this lovely, lyrical something, and suddenly there are 16 fouettés out of nowhere. It makes me think, ‘Ah, that was an unfortunate choice.’”

Instead, she wants solos to emphasize dancers’ understanding of musicality and show off their movement quality. “I look for technical clarity and an understanding of their body moving through space,” she says. “Are they able to embody the movement and not just do steps? It’s not just about technique, but whether they can actually dance it with expression.”

Other Things to Consider

Paperwork
Dance resumes, letters of intent, and photographs (typically a head shot and/or a dance pose) are often required.

Dress Codes
You will most likely be asked to wear traditional ballet attire (leotard, tights, and ballet shoes), so that those evaluating your performance can better observe your dance form. Rules regarding hairstyle may be in effect. Depending on the styles of dance for which you are auditioning, you may need to bring other shoes, as well. (Tap shoes, for instance.)

Video
At certain schools, you can submit a video of some of your other performances, either as additional audition material or for submission in lieu of attending auditions in person. Check with your school to see if this is an option.

Interviews
You can pretty much count on a required interview with the admission committee, in addition to your performance audition.

Campus Tour
When you get to campus, make sure that you have scheduled some time for asking questions and taking a tour. While the school is auditioning you, remember that you're also auditioning the school.

After seven years at American Ballet Theatre, Elizabeth Gaither arrived at a crossroads: She could finish her career in the corps of a world-famous company or potentially dance leading roles somewhere else.

“I was happy at ABT, and I felt valued,” Gaither recalls. “But I was at a point where I could take a leap of faith.” When a job offer came from The Washington Ballet artistic director Septime Webre, Gaither packed her bags and moved to DC. For the last five years, she’s been performing the lead roles she always dreamed of dancing.

Gaither’s experience reflects an issue many ballet dancers encounter. Is it preferable to dance in the corps of a large company, join a smaller company with more opportunities, or try both? All three scenarios can be fulfilling—it just depends on who you are and what you want. It’s important to dance in a place where you can grow and thrive, and that place is different for everyone. “If you don’t go to a major company, have you failed? Of course you haven’t, but there’s always a feeling that you are playing in the second league,” says Milwaukee Ballet artistic director Michael Pink. “Any experience is valuable as long as you prove yourself as an artist.”

As you weigh your options, ask yourself: Do I work better in a small group where I’ll get more attention, or do I prefer the thrill of a packed-to-the-barre class of stars? Do I want to tour internationally? How important is prestige? What kinds of ballets do I want to learn? Which choreographers inspire me? How does the lifestyle and vibe of a city impact me as an artist? Your answers to these questions will lead you in a number of directions. Here’s what you need to know to make an informed decision.

Big-City Ballet

Large and glamorous companies like New York City Ballet, American Ballet Theatre and San Francisco Ballet employ 75 or more artists each season. These organizations go on international tours, have diverse repertories, perform in majestic theaters—and have long seasons. SFB, for instance, has 42-week contracts, while smaller-sized companies hover around 30. More established companies also have the funds and infrastructure to provide such benefits as extensive physical therapy and cross-training programs.

These perks are enough to satisfy some dancers for the whole of their careers—even if it means never achieving a higher rank than corps de ballet. Dena Abergel, for example, is in her 17th season in the corps of NYCB. “There are roles I dreamed of dancing that I may never dance, but I’m still thrilled with my choice,” she says. “Young dancers should know that, while it might not be their dream to dance in the corps, it can be a fulfilling career. What ends up mattering is that you’re dancing great ballets to great music.” As you gain seniority, you may even get the chance to tackle soloist and demi-soloist roles.

Karin Ellis-Wentz, who danced for Atlanta, Boston and Dutch National Ballets, chose a corps contract at ABT over an offer from a smaller company that would have afforded her lead parts. “I prefer dancing in a bigger company to getting bigger roles,” she explains. “Being able to dance with these amazing people and tour the world in such a famous ballet company was more enticing. It’s a very nice feeling to be out there as a group of people, as a corps, creating something beautiful.”

One of the biggest challenges in a large company is getting noticed and finding the inner strength to keep working hard if you don’t. “If you don’t have a strong sense of purpose, it’s easy to get lost among the chosen few,” says Abergel. “You need the confidence to keep at it, or you might get discouraged. You probably won’t get a lot of encouragement and personal attention in a large company.”

Close-Knit Group

A career in a large, big-city company isn’t for everyone. Many ballet dancers enjoy long and fulfilling tenures at small and medium-sized ensembles outside the largest metropolitan areas. These companies often tour less and have shorter seasons, but dancers get more stage time and personal attention. Because the organization is smaller, the artists tend to be more close-knit. “When you have fewer people, there are more roles to go around and more opportunities,” says Sharon Wehner, who dances with Colorado Ballet.

Small companies have less money to pay juicy salaries, though depending on where you live, this may be partially offset by a lower cost of living. Smaller budgets might keep these companies from performing glitzy, expensive ballets, but there is still plenty of great repertory to tackle. Wehner says Colorado Ballet’s repertory kept her in Denver for nearly two decades. “I always evaluate, is this still the right place for me?” she says. “I stay not because I feel stuck, but because I’m excited for what’s coming up!”

So what kind of choreographers might you be working with at a small company? CB has performed works by Balanchine, Edwaard Liang and Rennie Harris. Tulsa Ballet’s repertory includes works by Nacho Duato, Stanton Welch and Ben Stevenson. This season, Milwaukee Ballet danced works by Jerome Robbins and Val Caniparoli, while Oregon Ballet Theatre presented works by Nicolo Fonte, James Kudelka, William Forsythe and Peter Martins.

It’s important to work in a smaller city with a prolific music and theater scene and a good quality of life, says Pink. “Outside the studio, the environment you live in is very important,” he says. “Milwaukee is a very cultured city, and it has good open spaces—it’s conducive to being creative, and it has strong family values, which means the dancers are well supported.”

Making a Change

Artists who have danced for both large and small companies have a unique perspective. Though Gaither loves DC now, the transition from NYC wasn’t easy. “I had a hard time adjusting in the beginning,” she says. “In New York, you feel creative energy everywhere. In DC, you have to look for it.”

Community support may also vary. Companies in smaller cities often must work harder to grow and maintain an audience base. For instance, Kathi Martuza danced in the corps of SFB for six years before moving to Portland to join Oregon Ballet Theatre. “In San Francisco, if you say, ‘I’m with SFB,’ the general person knows what you’re talking about. In Portland, they don’t always understand,” she says. “It’s a supportive community for the arts, but it’s different.”

Dancers who transition from large companies to small ones should not expect to be the star. “You can’t have dancers who aren’t going to work as a team,” Pink says. “A star in a small company is not good for the audience or the company because the audience will always feel cheated if they don’t see that star onstage.”

In addition to offering more stage time and close-knit working relationships, small companies can instill confidence. This is the main reason Pink recommends spending a few seasons in a smaller company. “A young artist needs the practical experience of being in front of an audience, having the challenge of doing 32 fouettés,” he says. “In a classroom of 35 instead of 65, there is more space and more opportunity to be seen by the teacher. To work in that environment builds your confidence and tells you about yourself.”

For dancers who start small and move into large companies, the prestige of working in the corps of a major ballet company offers a sense of pride. “Standing in the corps line, you develop such an appreciation for ballet,” says Gaither. “That experience is priceless. I wouldn’t be the dancer I am now if I hadn’t been at ABT.”

The trajectory of your career is both personal and special. As you make your way in the ballet world, be a sponge: Soak up as much knowledge and experience as you can, no matter where you dance. As Abergel puts it: “At the end of the day, what matters is how you feel. For me, I find myself fulfilled as a dancer and a person.”

With the hoopla surrounding the recent 50th anniversary of John F Kennedy's assassination, not much was made over his involvement with the Arts. It struck me that the nation could benefit from a return to that involvement.

"American artists have for three years looked to the White House with unaccustomed confidence and warmth," Bernstein said at a memorial service in Nov. 1963. "We loved him for the honor in which he held art, in which he held every creative impulse of the human mind, whether it was expressed in words, or notes, or paints, or mathematical symbols."

Taking advantage of artists to inspire national optimism, the Kennedy White House made art glamorous. In return, art became a crucial factor. But this aspect of the Kennedy administration is being overlooked.

To a certain extent, the arts have flourished in America since, with performing arts centers and museums built by the hundreds. The National Endowment for the Arts was established under Johnson in 1965, thanks to the Kennedy legacy. But with Vietnam raging, artists hated LBJ. These days, we all know what a political liability supporting the NEA has become for any national politician.

Despite an unprecedented explosion of the arts in America over the last half-century, artists have never again been afforded such national prominence. Washington has become so nervous about and impervious toward art that it seems like fantasy to recall a moment in this country when artists powerfully influenced how Americans felt about America, its identity and future. America needs the arts, as this following list from Randy Cohen at ArtsBlog shows.

1. Creativity - The arts are fundamental to our humanity. They ennoble and inspire us—fostering creativity, goodness, and beauty. The arts help us express our values, build bridges between cultures, and bring us together regardless of ethnicity, religion, or age. When times are tough, art is salve for the ache.

2. Improved academic performance - Students with an education rich in the arts have higher GPAs and standardized test scores, lower drop-out rates, and even better attitudes about community service—benefits reaped by students regardless of socio-economic status. Students with four years of arts or music in high school average 100 points better on their SAT scores than students with one-half year or less.

3. Arts are an industry - Arts organizations are responsible businesses, employers, and consumers. Nonprofit arts organizations generate big money in economic activity annually. Investment in the arts supports jobs, generates tax revenues, promotes tourism, and advances our creativity-based economy.

4. Arts are good for local merchants - People who attend art events pay for tickets, meals, parking, even babysitters. Attendees who live outside the county in which the arts event takes place spend twice as much as their local counterparts. This is valuable revenue for local businesses and the community.

5. Arts are the cornerstone of tourism - Arts travelers are ideal tourists—they stay longer and spend more. The U.S. Department of Commerce reports that the percentage of international travelers including museum visits on their trip has increased from 17 to 23 percent since 2003, while the share attending concerts and theater performances increased from 13 to 16 percent (only 7 percent include a sports event).

6. Arts are an export industry…U.S. exports of arts goods (e.g., movies, paintings, jewelry) grew to $64 billion in 2010, while imports were just $23 billion—a $41 billion arts trade surplus in 2010.

7. Building the 21st Century workforce…Reports by the Conference Board show creativity is among the top 5 applied skills sought by business leaders—with 72 percent saying creativity is of high importance when hiring. The biggest creativity indicator? A college arts degree. Their Ready to Innovate report concludes, “…the arts—music, creative writing, drawing, dance—provide skills sought by employers of the 3rd millennium.”

8. Healthcare - Nearly one-half of the nation’s healthcare institutions provide arts programming for patients, families, and even staff. 78 percent deliver these programs because of their healing benefits to patients—shorter hospital stays, better pain management, and less medication.

9. Stronger communities - University of Pennsylvania researchers have demonstrated that a high concentration of the arts in a city leads to higher civic engagement, more social cohesion, higher child welfare, and lower poverty rates. A vibrant arts community ensures that young people are not left to be raised solely in a pop culture and tabloid marketplace.

10. Creative Industries - The Creative Industries are arts businesses that range from nonprofit museums, symphonies, and theaters to for-profit film, architecture, and design companies. An analysis of Dun & Bradstreet data counts 905,689 businesses in the U.S. involved in the creation or distribution of the arts that employ 3.35 million people—representing 4.4 percent of all businesses and 2.2 percent of all employees, respectively.

Holidays are a festive time for studios and schools. But, as student populations diversify, it becomes harder to be inclusive. Whether focusing on certain holidays or taking religion out of the equation altogether, it’s important to consider your location and cultural demographic when planning festivities. You may choose to celebrate the snowy season with generic decorations, or plan a holiday show that’s welcoming to all. From gifts to special events, there’s a lot to keep in mind to make all students—and their families—feel a part of the merriment. Six teachers talk about their approaches.

Jazz It up

Roxanne Claire
Claire School of Dance
Houston, TX

As a student, Roxanne Claire performed in the Omaha Civic Ballet’s Nutcracker year after year. And now, just hearing the “Waltz of the Flowers” music brings her back to the excitement of those holiday shows. “But everyone does a Nutcracker,” says studio owner Claire. “So we looked for a way to make our show different.” Claire produces the New York Nutcracker, based on her favorite childhood book, Eloise at Christmastime, about a little girl living in The Plaza Hotel. “The characters are all New Yorkers: shoppers, city girls, hotel maids,” she says. “We do include some classic Nutcracker characters, such as Spanish and Flowers, but with an NYC sophistication.” Eloise is set to Duke Ellington’s jazz arrangement of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker score, and students love it. “They wear the T-shirts long after it’s over,” she says. “The show generates an esprit de corps within the school.”

A Kawanza Affair

Lula Washington
Lula Washington Dance Theatre
Los Angeles, CA

Kwanzaa, not Christmas, takes center stage during the holidays at Lula Washington Dance Theatre, which heads into its 21st annual Kwanzaa celebration December 29 and 30 at Nat Holden Performing Arts Center in L.A. “Kwanzaa is a cultural celebration, not a religious one,” says Lula Washington. “It’s open to people of all ethnic origins.” Audiences look forward to this annual celebration, which consists of music, dance and spoken-word performances by the professional company, students and invited guests. Since each day of Kwanzaa has its own meaning, performers focus on different themes every year. This year’s focus is Ujamaa (cooperative economics) and Nia (purpose). “People leave the show feeling rejuvenated and uplifted,” says Washington.

Multicultural Approach

Jamee Schleifer
The Magnet School of Multicultural Humanities—PS 253
Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, NY

With 62 languages spoken at PS 253, and religion a taboo topic in public schools, celebrating the holidays can be complicated. “The school’s lobby is decorated with a Christmas tree, menorah and Kwanzaa lights,” says dance teacher Jamee Schleifer, who incorporates dances from Mexico, Russia, Israel and China into class. “Teaching about different cultural holidays is an important way for kids to learn about the world around them.”

Although she doesn’t put on a show, The Nutcracker factors into Schleifer’s dance class festivities. “I teach about the ballet by playing Tchaikovsky’s music and teaching short combinations,” she says. “I also read them the Nutcracker story, and show video clips of Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gelsey Kirkland performing the ballet.” As a special in-class activity, Schleifer has students make their own versions of a nutcracker doll out of paper.

Stress-Free Fun

Jane Weiner
Hope Stone Center
Houston, TX

Jane Weiner, of Hope Stone Center, prefers to celebrate without decorations. “The studio is too small,” she says. “And there are too many religions.” Weiner likes to stay clear of the holiday hoopla and focuses instead on giving her students a stress-free season.

But she’s not against a little holiday fun. So each year, former Houston Ballet principal Dawn Scannell teaches “Bah Humbug Ballet,” a class with festive music that’s focused on reducing holiday stress. “During the holidays, we all need to stop and take care of ourselves,” says Weiner. “And Dawn is very funny, so there’s a lot of laughter.” To add a little extra holiday fun, the class is followed by a cookies and cider party, which Weiner finds fitting for her eclectic student population.

Shows For All

Phyllis A. Balagna
Steppin’ Out—The Studio, Inc.
Lee’s Summit, MO

It’s all about Christmas at Steppin’ Out, Phyllis Balagna’s studio near Kansas City. “Our entire population celebrates Christmas,” she says. “So we are very festive, with a tree in the lobby, stockings for each teacher and lights framing the front desk.” And the decorations are just the beginning. Students perform a special holiday program with the Lee’s Summit Symphony Orchestra, which includes both classic ballet selections and holiday numbers. “It sells out every year,” says Balagna. Younger students, who don’t get the chance to perform with the orchestra, throw their own holiday performance called “Snack Time with Santa,” and the musical theater students put on a vocal recital in Kansas City.

Season of Giving

Danie Beck
Dance Unlimited
Miami, FL

On the last day of classes before the holiday break, Dance Unlimited students perform holiday-themed combinations for each other, play games and receive a small gift. And the staff is always game for donning reindeer antlers and elf hats. “The children love it,” says owner Danie Beck. Iridescent snowflakes, glittered Christmas ornaments and foil stars jazz up the lobby. “Our enrollment is 90 percent Latino, so we put up ‘Feliz Navidad’ signs as well,” she says. “But the decor is mostly the standard Christmas look with no strong religious leanings. And I ask our staff to use the phrase ‘Happy Holidays,’ so no one is offended.”

In lieu of teacher gifts, the studio holds a toy and food drive for nearby migrant labor camps. “We gather quite a few large baskets,” says Beck. “This time of year, it’s essential to stress the importance of giving.”

At Right - Students from the Paris Opera Ballet School

In the dance world, some believe European dancers have an edge over their American counterparts, given the history, culture, and government systems of funding abroad.

American dancers possess grit, tenacity and a hunger that exceeds some European equivalents, yet the elusive artistic core lags or appears untapped. Europe provides a cultural banquet to nourish artistic growth. But does their approach to training incorporate more diversity that contributes to creative growth? If, so, can American dance schools fashion strategies based on this assumption? In creating an artist, are there lessons to be gleaned from Europe?

Historic Culture

European culture provides abundant settings and subsequent opportunities to partake in artistic experience. Looking back, as countries developed through kingdoms, the arts flourished as weapons to illustrate the opulence of individual royal residences. Long before our modern icons of expensive cars, technology and other indicators of wealth, the arts provided proof of wealth and status. Kingdoms encouraged the growth and necessity of the arts as aristocratic symbols which allowed art appreciation to trickle down and establish through respective environs. By spending huge sums of money, Kingdoms set precedents for governments to support the continuity of sustaining this way of life for future generations.

Art Experience

Walking Europe’s streets enriches cultural experience: monuments, museums, historical architecture, and works of art can stimulate and deepen aesthetic knowledge. This cultural heritage includes launching national schools to train artists. National dance schools blossomed and were established with curriculums that trained the artist through multiple approaches.

To a budding dancer, immersing oneself in a rich cultural experience can make all the difference. This is what’s typically missing in American training and can be seen as instrumental in cultivating artistic depth. Often, a lack of artistic interpretation in dance has made some think European dancers are more complete artists. Beyond this loaded and ripe setting which is conducive to artistic imagination,

Can European tradition and training methods inspire other regions to improve on developing their quality of artistry?

National ballet school models established by major European companies provide clues to strategies. Through conversations with those trained at these select academies, the diverse curriculums mandated as required study provide students and young artists with exposure to various art forms. This fosters creativity on many levels.

Ballet, at the core of many schools, provides a necessary foundation of line, alignment, discipline and control. Visionary founders and subsequent leaders also realized the value of introducing multiple art forms to create an awareness and opportunities as to how each diverse aspect can contribute to one’s performance. Classes in music, both in theory and practice, provide a unique grasp on fine nuances that can occur within dance choreography: shadings, lingering and stretching among other musical executions. Classes in theatre and mime work on the obvious: creating an honest character, true to oneself, and believable to the audience. Improvisational study and composition offer essential building blocks for future choreographers. Studies in modern, character, jazz and pas de deux help assemble versatility, key to the diversity required of dancers.

Dance history endows students with vital information — the why’s of what they’re sharing with an audience.

How can a dancer effectively portray Myrtha without knowing Myrtha is a dead icy queen of dead maidens who died in heartbreak? How can a young Prince Siegfried honestly portray his character if he’s unaware the prince has just turned 21 and doesn’t want to accept adult responsibilities, leaving childhood behind? Given this information through historical study, perhaps he’d envision his own sense of impeding adulthood and call upon inner experience to fuel his performance.

Our Differences

Alhough America has its share of exceptional teachers and schools, the artistic product is emphasized over the artistic process. Many schools cite time as a crucial issue mandating this unfortunate circumstance. It’s unfair to compare the American private dance school model with national ballet schools established by European ballet companies with long histories and government funding.

What about the training curriculum established by schools associated with major American ballet companies?The major schools have the benefit of professional dancers-in-residence to provide exposure to professionalism, but what about the courses of study? Looking at classes offered by the major schools, study programs for students have limited diversity beyond ballet, modern and character dance (which provides some diversity beneficial for big story ballets that often incorporate this style with the context of the ballet.) The School of American Ballet offers music and ballroom classes, and the Pacific Northwest Ballet School offers a valuable history class, according to their websites. They join a few other places that understand the significance of augmented standard training. In general, the training focuses on physical aspects (yes, very important) but seems to neglects the merit of other studies that give artistic exposure.

Solutions

Is there a way to adapt a more European approach to giving students artistic exposure? Absolutely. The largest schools could add history courses to give students background and character information which they can use to fashion valid interpretation. Studies in music, art appreciation, mime, theatre, voice and others can be encouraged.

At smaller, private schools, which have produced some brilliant technicians, art exposure may be more limited, especially in smaller cities. Without the benefit of having a professional company to provide artistic stimulation, exposure can be challenging. Field trips to dance events, museums, orchestras and art openings might instill inspiration and begin the artistic awareness process. Teachers could offer short history lectures, or assign students to research ballets to learn their stories and characters including watching YouTube videos. Workshops in music, theater, mime and compositional approaches could support artistic growth and a sense and understanding of integrating artistic approaches towards one’s own presentation.

Traditional European approach to dance training creates artists and establishes training methods that embrace the arts. From this training, more seasoned and informed dancers can emerge. American schools can integrate these approaches to begin sculpting more complete artists.

"The course of true love never did run smooth.” Shakespeare’s famous line from A Midsummer Night’s Dream applies easily to those of us whose true love is dance. Though you may begin your study of dance at age 5 with visions of the Sugar Plum Fairy dancing in your head, you may discover, at 20, that ballet is no longer your thing and you’ve fallen in love with lighting design. Many paths wind through the dance world that do not involve choreographing or performing dance. Weighing in on these “alternative” dance careers are several experts who tell us how they got started, what they like most and least, and what to keep in mind if your own path points in one of these directions.

Lighting Design: Sculpting with Light and Color

Mark Stanley, the resident lighting designer at New York City Ballet, was an undergraduate theater studies major at the College of William and Mary in Virginia in the late 1970s when Nikolais Dance Theatre performed there. Stanley had already jumped in as a lighting designer for the college’s student dance company, Orchesis, during his first year. But his experience with the Nikolais company opened his eyes to a larger world. “I’d never seen anything like it, and I was immediately hooked.”

Stanley completed his MFA in lighting design at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, and then worked for the New York City Opera for six years. Though he had no dance background, he had always loved dance and its “ability to tell stories or convey emotion without words,” he says. When the job at NYCB came up, he jumped at it. “I was doing small dance companies in and around New York at the time, so I found a great home at New York City Ballet, and it’s been 20 years.”

Lighting design has its challenges. “There’s no time,” Stanley says. “[With] most dance companies, regional or touring, you load in on a Monday and open on a Wednesday. That’s frustrating, because I like to explore and make choices and throw them out and see something different. There’s also the fact that you’re creating your work in the space, right in front of everybody. There’s a side of this business that has to do with dealing with people, and having tough skin when there’s a row of people behind you commenting on your work while you’re doing it.”

But Stanley delights in contributing to the creation of new work. He enjoys the close collaboration with choreographers and the prominent role that lighting design plays in dance. “In theater and opera, lighting takes somewhat of a back seat to the other design elements. And in dance it’s all about the light that creates the environment. That’s very exciting for me.”

His advice for young designers? “See as much dance as you possibly can.” Take classes. Many universities across the country offer classes or degree programs in design. Observe other designers at work. “Lighting designers are for the most part very generous with their time and allowing people who are interested to observe,” he says. “If nothing else, it inspires you to go out and do it yourself.”

Costume and Set Design: Building a World

“I said when I was young that if all I had to do all day long was make beautiful dresses, that would be my dream job,” says Tamara Cobus, who runs the costume shop at Richmond Ballet in Virginia.

Cobus danced and choreographed in high school, but an interest in architecture shaped her undergraduate beginnings at the University of Utah. A work–study job in the university’s costume shop, however, threw her right back into the dance world. “I wasn’t choreographing or dancing, I was making dancers look beautiful,” she says. Gradually that work eclipsed her pursuit of architecture, although, she says, “it was the same as architecture for me, in a way—it was building things. But it was on a much smaller scale, and it was instantly gratifying.”

In 1991 Cobus left school and opened a storefront in downtown Salt Lake City, where she worked on projects in fashion, performance, bridal, and photo styling. In 2003 a phone call came out of the blue from Richmond Ballet, offering her a job running the costume shop. “They basically said, ‘It’s a broken shop; it’s not functioning, and it’s your baby if you want it. You can turn it into the shop that you want it to be,’ ” says Cobus. “That was very appealing.” So she closed up her own shop and moved to Virginia.

For Cobus, making a costume begins with her first conversation with the choreographer and continues all the way to opening night. “It’s hard to say what I like the best,” she says. “I love taking an idea and making it happen in reality. I love the process of fitting. I love to have a little secret in the design, a low back that you wouldn’t expect. Or making people wonder, ‘How does that stay on?’ ”

Her challenges involve coordinating the costuming needs of all parts of the Richmond Ballet organization—company, school, and outreach programs. And, she says, “I have a bigger staff than I’ve ever had, so sometimes it’s a little difficult for me to stay those steps ahead of them.” She’s had to learn to delegate and, she says, “that’s hard, because I had my own business for 15 years. But it’s becoming easier and easier for me to give it up and share the art, share the creativity.”

Cobus has honest advice for aspiring costume designers: “Expect long, hard hours. It is not a glamorous profession. I think at every opening I’ve ever gone to here at the Ballet, my hands have been dyed in whatever color they’re wearing onstage. You just have to be tough. You’re hunched over sewing machines; you’re figuring out problems; you have unreasonable deadlines. You have to be committed to creating something from nothing every day.” But, she adds, “if it’s your passion, absolutely do it. You owe it to the world to share that part of yourself.”

Freelance designer Sandra Woodall creates both costume and set designs for companies across the country. She studied fine arts and had wanted to become a painter, but a job she took after graduating from college altered her course. Her sewing skills gave her the chance to work in the wardrobe department at the San Francisco Opera House. Her work there followed an organic progression, she says. “Initially I got into the business in a very technical way, working on costumes, then building costumes, then eventually sort of shyly exposing the fact that I would be interested in designing costumes.”

An established freelancer whose work is in high demand—when we spoke she was running between a new production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream for Oregon Ballet Theatre and Othello for Alberta Ballet—Woodall says, “I love collaborating with the choreographer and developing a whole visual concept, which includes the costumes and the scenery.” She unites her approach to costume and scenic design through her early training as a visual artist. “All these fields, in terms of the arts, are just shades of aesthetic thinking. I don’t feel like someone should think, ‘I can’t be a costume designer because I wasn’t trained; I don’t have the theater background.’ I think you develop a point of view that translates.”

Stage Managing: Wear a Watch

Josh Morales comes from a family of musicians and singers and has a background in event management. After running his own event management and booking agency, Morales answered an advertisement on CraigsList.com for a stage manager for the dance competition company StarQuest.

“I had no idea what it really was,” Morales says. “I knew it was stage managing a show, but I wasn’t really sure what a dance competition was.” He got the job and, he says, “it all worked out. I stage managed last year, the whole season, and now I’m on the staff here permanently.” During the competition season (roughly January through July), he stage manages competition performances. Off-season, he works as a booking manager for StarQuest, hunting up competition venues around the country.

“My passion is putting something together and seeing it come to fruition,” says Morales. During competition performances, he says, “I love working with the dancers backstage, making sure that they’re on time, that they’re in their places, that the lighting is correct for them, that they can hear the music well. And that the audience gets a smooth show.”

As a booking manager, he says, “you’re on the phone talking to people across the country about their facility, their stage size, their lighting, where we’re going to bring our equipment through, where we’re going to find dressing room space. It’s a challenge. But again, when I’m on the site and I see it come to fruition, then it’s worth it.”

The rewards of these careers can be as rich and satisfying as the most triumphant moment in the spotlight. After all, it’s only in the combination of on- and offstage artists that dance reaches its full potential as a performing art. As Morales says, “I love being able to see it all come together at the end.”

For most people, Christmas nutcrackers—the kind that look like little men—call to mind sugarplum fairies and first trips to the ballet. I think of my grandmother. Throughout her life, she collected a wide array of nutcrackers and displayed them by theme: Soldierly nutcrackers arrayed in dignified formation; several Santas all competing for the attentions of a single Mrs. Claus on a hutch in the family room; the characters from the ballet—Clara, the Mouse King, etc—in a place of honor in the dining room near my grandmother's silver. Through these dolls, I can trace a larger history which includes German peasants, Soviet subsidies, American soldiers and a French ballet corps.

Tools to crack nuts have been around for a long time. The earliest written reference to the tool seems to have come in the 14th century, and they pop up as very minor footnotes throughout European history, according to Robert Mills, author of Nutcrackers: The tool is alluded to in The Canterbury Tales. King Henry VIII gave a pair of nutcrackers to Anne Boleyn (ponder the possible symbolisms of that one for a bit). Even Leonardo DaVinci expended some brainpower on the concept of how best to crack nuts—one solution he came up with was a large, horse-powered press.

As Judith A. Rittenhouse explains in her comprehensive history of nutcrackers, for many years, no one regional version of the device became dominant over the others, though most involved the same basic machinery (lots of levers and screw presses). Design and material varied wildly—brass crocodiles in India; cast-iron squirrels in England; even porcelain elsewhere in northern Europe. Wood was the most common material, and it's what German woodworkers in the Erzgebirge region * turned to in the late 17th century when they began carving the earliest versions of the distinctive soldier-dolls we know today.

At first, these nutcrackers, often made in workshops alongside carved toys and puzzles, weren't specifically Christmas-themed—though they were commonly given as gifts—and it's impossible to pin down precisely when they took on that seasonal significance. (Nuts and thus nutcrackers are a part of many holiday celebrations—Halloween in regions of Britain and Scotland was traditionally known as Nutcrack Night.)

The dolls symbolize good luck in German tradition—one popular origin myth, related by Rittenhouse, holds that a wealthy but lonely farmer who found the process of cracking nuts to be detrimental to his productivity (efficiency even pervades German folklore!) offered a reward to whoever could come up with the best solution. Each villager drew on his own professional expertise—a carpenter advocating sawing them open, a soldier shooting the suckers. But it was the puppetmaker—a profession that seems to loom large in European tall tales —who won the day, building a strong-jawed, lever-mouthed doll.

German homes didn't typically have more than one of the dolls, and so, during rough economic times in the early 19th century, the region's toymakers took to the roads, selling their stuff elsewhere—Russia, Poland, Norway. Demand increased, and by the 1870s, nutcrackers (among other wooden toys) had begun to be produced commercially in factories.

Nutcrackers got what would turn out to be their biggest boost when Peter Tchaikovsky adapted an 1816 E.T.A Hoffman Christmas story called The Nutcracker and the Mouse King for the—eventually—famous and wildly successful ballet, first performed in 1892. The ballet wasn't immediately a hit (though parts of its score were), so for years after its debut the German version of the nutcracker featured therein remained largely a regional phenomonen. In fact, the most popular nutcrackers at the time of the First World War were probably wood-carved human and animal heads made in the Groden Valley of Northern Italy. The Nutcracker wasn't widely performed until the mid-20th century, when it became a distinctly American hit.

The war also played an important role in introducing Americans to the German way of cracking nuts, according to Arlene Wagner, who curates the Leavenworth Nutcracker museum. American G.I.s stationed in West Germany after the war began purchasing the figurines to send home as Christmas gifts, despite the fact that many of the dolls were modeled after Prussian soldiers and the American defeat of the Nazis was still recent history. Though there's something ancient and primal about the urge to display your felled enemy in some form or another, the popularity of these figurines probably had more to do with their charming woodwork, their bright colors, and the strength of the dollar than old-fashioned triumphalism.

Gift-hunting GIs helped keep the nutcracker-makers in business. When Germany splintered into East and West, the Erzgebirge region was behind the wall. Few in the East could afford to buy nutcrackers themselves, so East German woodworkers exported their goods to West Germany and its ready market of American soldiers. * For the remainder of the Cold War era, there was a mini nutcracker war that mirrored the larger ideological struggle: Eastern manufacturers had government subsidies—along with government price and wage setting—that allowed them to expand their operations and sell their nutcrackers at about half the cost of those made in West Germany. But the mass-produced Eastern nutcrackers soon became less carefully manufactured, and the same designs—which had to be approved by the government—were used over and over. Meanwhile, in the West, creative new designs flourished, says Wagner.

By the 1980s, there were increasingly desperate attempts to cater to American tastes. Some caught on—my Grandmother's collection, full of mailman nutcrackers and Benjamin Franklin nutcrackers and even a Harley Davidson-riding nutcracker, is a testament to that—while others flopped. One especially controversial 1991 nutcracker, marketed once again to American GIs in Germany, was garbed in Desert Storm combat gear, toted a rifle and ammo, and was packaged in what looked like a munitions container. Even soldiers seemed largely uninterested in such a jarringly aggressive, and contemporary, bit of military iconography on a quaint Christmas decoration.

By that point, the provenance of nutcrackers didn't really matter—if it ever did—for voracious American consumers, who just wanted something that looked vaguely like the guy from the ballet. Nutcrackers had begun popping up at bargain basement prices in department stores, with "Made in China" stickers stuck to the bottom of ripped-off German designs. Some of my mother's collection was made by the venerable old nutcracker houses (Steinbach being the most storied) and purchased at a German specialty store in Cleveland; others were made in Taiwan and bought at Target. You can tell the difference if you lift them, feel their heft, and inspect the detail. Sitting on the shelf, though, it's the bright colors and whimsy you notice, which both kinds have in spades.

What was once a restrained European folk-art pursuit has ballooned into an over-the-top tradition, thanks largely to Americans, who spend north of $8 billion each year on Christmas decorations annually. We seem to have a national instinct to collect, particularly when it comes to pop-culture-related merch.

That Leavenworth Nutcracker Museum in Washington State, which has more than 4,000 of the figurines, began as Wagner's personal, Nutcracker-inspired collection. And since what many of us now celebrate at Christmas is, well, celebrating, it doesn't hurt that Nutcrackers are an easily recognizable symbol of a Christmas story that has nothing to do with Baby Jesus; the ballet's Christmas themes have to do with the festivities, not the theology, of the holiday.

My Grandmother's interest might not be strictly in keeping with German tradition, but it's precisely the sort of American sentimentalism that's kept the German tradition in business all these years. Here's to nutcrackers and the dreams and spirit of Christmas that they continue to inspire in both children and adults.

Among the many things to teach young students —proper technique, discipline, performance etiquette — how to choreograph is probably not high on the list. Yet students can reap marvelous benefits from learning the basics of dancemaking.

“If we want them to be more than just technicians—if we have expectations of them as performing artists—choreography is a way for them to find out who they are through exploratory exercises and challenges,” says Diane Jacobowitz of Dancewave in Brooklyn, New York. “This is for the teacher who can see the bigger picture.”

Teaching composition, whether it’s adding five minutes of improvisation to a technique class or designing an entire hour lesson based on dancemaking concepts, opens the door to self-expression for dancers of all ages. Rather than compelling students to always repeat steps by rote, which can lead to burnout for even the most technically gifted dancers, choreography frees them to express their feelings and delight in the knowledge that they have created something important and meaningful.

Classroom Concepts & Activities

While advanced students naturally will be able to use more difficult movements, dancers with any level of experience can experiment with choreography. Emphasize that creating a piece is about more than simply putting steps together; telling a novice to “go and make up 32 counts” is a recipe for disaster. Instead, focus on using choreography concepts, games, suggestions and exercises to encourage students to move, and then show how that movement becomes choreography. “Give them things to dance about,” says New York City–based master teacher Ellen Robbins. “Without improvisation, there is no source of inspiration for the movement; it’s only steps. The passion is what’s important.”

Anne Green Gilbert, founder and artistic director of Creative Dance Center in Seattle, includes a choreography section in all of her classes, even for ages 3 and 4. She sets up a scenario that allows students to work on specific choreographic concepts. For example, her youngest students do a “dance game” in which they are introduced to “energy” by dancing in different dynamics—their movements must be “sharp,” “smooth,” “shaky” or “swinging.” Another week she talks about high and low levels, or plays with verbs—“poke,” “chop” or “brush” the space.

Starting at age 6, students discuss concepts such as exits and entrances, or how a dance needs a beginning, middle and end, just like a story in a book. Green Gilbert instructs them to enter the stage space with a slow movement, create a rhythm with a partner, then exit with a fast movement. “Give them concepts, vocabulary and skills, and the time to play with those skills,” she says.

Robbins starts weaving choreography games into her classes for 5-year-olds. Students make a “dancing sandwich” by beginning with a skip, doing another movement, then ending with another skip. Or they move from stiff to wiggly, change from a caterpillar to a butterfly or dance from happy to angry. She also gives them story outlines—they’re ice skating and fall down; they’re sleeping, the alarm clock rings and they have to rush to get ready for school; they’re lost in the woods—to help them create their own movements.

Critiquing each other’s work is an important part of the process, one that even 5-year-olds can participate in, Robbins notes. “We watch each other’s pieces, talk about what looked good, what could be better,” she says. “After a time, they just talk to each other. I don’t even have to enter in.”
Jacobowitz starts with students in the fourth or fifth grades, who learn to make up movement to fit a story. (Perhaps it’s walking through peanut butter or floating down a river.) To “cook spaghetti,” they start out stiff and straight, “jump into the pot” and slowly become loose and wriggly, then roll out and end on a plate.

Once the creative juices are flowing, students are ready for more serious concepts. Jacobowitz suggests teaching a phrase of eight counts, then asking students to create variations on it—changing the tempo or rhythm, altering the level or doing the phrase backward. Or, she says, teach the first two phrases of a piece of music, and ask each student to contribute one additional phrase.

Jacobowitz also splits students, ages 8 and up, into groups of three to six and teaches each a simple variation. She starts the music and lets each one enter and exit at any time, allowing individuals to leave their groups to dance with another. Exercises like these not only show how a dance is made, Jacobowitz explains, but encourage dancers to work together as a unit.

Classical music can be a wonderful inspiration, adds Robbins. Take a suite such as The Carnival of the Animals, and give a two-minute solo to each child. Allow them to come up with their own scenarios and movements to match. Chopin might inspire an 8-year-old to become a woodland sprite, while Stravinsky might conjure up a more dramatic scenario—one of Robbins’ students did a dance about a melting ice cream cone that she tried to eat faster and faster, only to have it melt onto the ground. “A tragedy in a minute and a half,” Robbins recalls, laughing.

Getting Teachers Up to Speed

One of the reasons many teachers resist teaching choreography is that they never formally studied the subject. Brushing up on composition tools and concepts by reading books or attending workshops can help.

For years, the dance world was so focused on turning out technical dancers, Green Gilbert says, that creativity and self-expression were often left behind. But there is room for both. When she guest teaches at serious ballet schools, she has those preprofessionals choreographing within a half hour by explaining concepts such as doing a step in canon, changing the dynamic or taking a straight-line movement and traveling in a zig-zag instead. “Ask your students, ‘What could we do here? How could we change this?’” Green Gilbert suggests.

While kids will generally enjoy the fun and freedom of dancemaking, parents may sometimes complain that the time should be spent on technique. Jacobowitz often has to explain that studying choreography allows dancers to express themselves, to use dance to speak to the world the way a poet uses words. In fact, many choreographers today demand that their dancers contribute to the movement. Even apart from dance, it teaches students to solve problems, to think independently and creatively, and even how to organize.

“They get so much pleasure from making up movements—not just waiting for the teacher to give it to them by rote,” says Robbins. “The children care about something because it is theirs, and that’s a personal investment that’s good for life.”

When Rylyn Juliano moved to NYC, everything was going according to plan. She had graduated early from Syracuse University with a BFA. She had an agent, she was going to auditions and she was even getting callbacks.

But after a few months, her good fortune slowly started to shift. Not only did the callbacks dry up, but at auditions, she generally stopped getting noticed altogether. Rylyn’s confidence was shaken, and that made her question herself as a dancer. “I was freaking out that I wasn’t going to have a good audition before I even got there,” she says. But, despite her emotional struggle, Rylyn didn’t give up.

Finally, she reached a turning point when she messed up a very simple combination at an audition. It had been about four weeks since she’d been in class, mainly because of a lack of time and money. But as she observed the other dancers, she realized that her own technique had fallen behind. “I looked at their technique and said, ‘I should be able to do that!’ ” she says. “Seeing them bumped up my game.” She started budgeting for training and threw herself into ballet classes at The Ailey Extension and Broadway Dance Center. Now, nearly a year after what she calls “the slump”—she attended more than 90 auditions over a period of six months before she was offered her first job—she is dancing her dream role of Cassie in the touring production of A Chorus Line! Rylyn’s slump taught her an important lesson—never stop training—and she’ll draw on that knowledge throughout her career.

Whether you’ve been skipped over for a role you wanted, scored poorly at a competition or fallen flat on your derrière at an audition, you’ve most likely had a few setbacks of your own. They are a normal part of any dancer’s life. But once you learn to cope with these inevitable disappointments, they can actually be valuable learning experiences. Here are five ways your losses can make you a better dancer. They also will help in every aspect of your life.

You Learn Your Limitations and How to Work Around Them

“Having a realistic view of your abilities is helpful,” says Dr. Toby Diamond, a Seattle-based psychologist who works with dancers at Pacific Northwest Ballet School. If you understand your strengths and weaknesses, you will be better equipped to manage your own training and career. You can use an unsuccessful audition or a poor competition score as an opportunity to be honest with yourself about what you need to work on. What are your weak areas? Perhaps you struggle with flexibility or your fouettés are wobbly. Ask a teacher or coach for feedback. If your issue is something that can’t be fixed, like low arches, your teacher can help you learn to work around it.

You Learn to Accept Criticism and Use It to Your Advantage

Dancers are more able to accept criticism when their sense of self-worth isn’t wrapped up in winning. And constructive criticism helps a dancer grow technically and artistically. When you get negative feedback, “it’s OK to be hurt and upset and even go home and cry a little at first,” says Diamond. But then you have to learn to use that criticism rather than ignore it. Keep a diary of the corrections you receive, and focus on recurring critiques during class. As you progress, you’ll also be able to look back and appreciate how much you’ve improved.

You Learn the Value of Hard Work

At age 13, Montana Efaw was selected as a finalist at a Monsters of Hip Hop event and found herself competing for a spot in an annual show the convention produces in L.A. “I was up against some of the best dancers out there at the time,” she remembers. Unfortunately, she didn’t make the show. Instead of giving up, Montana spent the next year training more intensely and in a wider variety of styles. Her work paid off: She was nominated again the following year and earned a place in the show. The discipline she developed after that setback has served her well throughout her career—today she dances for Lady Gaga.

“If you realistically face disappointment, you can use it as a springboard to work harder or take a different direction,” says Diamond. “For example, if you keep falling out of a pirouette en dehors, instead of saying ‘I can’t do pirouettes,’ you might get a teacher or a peer to watch you and help you figure out why you keep falling.”

You Learn That It’s Not Always About You

After failing to land your dream role, it might feel like the world has ended. But over time you’ll discover that casting decisions involve many factors beyond your control. For example, a casting director may be looking for a certain ethnicity, height or body shape. Instead of dwelling on things you can’t change, try to stay positive and patient. The right role for you will come.

You Learn to Push Past Your Fear

Dancers who aren’t afraid to fail are more likely to try new things. “People who take risks grow a good deal more than those who don’t,” Diamond says. “And how can you be an artist and not experiment?” Face your fears by trying a new dance style or taking class from a new teacher.

The next time you face a setback, remember that it’s OK to cry and be frustrated. Just don’t let those feelings keep you from facing your fears and stepping into the studio the next day with the discipline, perspective and open mind that will make you the best dancer you can be

You’ve been dancing your whole life, so when it comes time to start auditioning for musicals, it’s not the dance portion you’re worried about. You can time step and piqué turn with the best of them. But at musical theater auditions, there’s new lingo to learn, and you can’t just show up with your tap shoes hoping for the best. What if you have to sing? What is an “audition book”? What are you supposed to do with sheet music?

Here are answers from the pros:

Nikole Vallins: Casting director for Binder Casting: cast A Chorus Line, White Christmas, Gypsy, Dreamgirls and The Lion King

Paul McGill: Memphis and A Chorus Line

Cornelius Jones Jr.: The Lion King, Smokey Joe’s Cafe and Thou Shalt Not

Chasten Harmon: Les Misérables, All Shook Up, Hair and Once on This Island

Jeremy Woodard: Rock of Ages and national tour of Hairspray

Stephanie Martignetti: National tours of Mary Poppins and A Chorus Line

How should I prepare for an audition?

“First, research the creative team and learn about the style of the show,” Vallins says. “The era the show takes place in will affect what you should wear and what you’re going to sing. Learn whatever you can about the director and choreographer.” If the show’s website is already up and running, look there for bios, or Google the names you find. “Knowing the people involved will help you know what they’re looking for during the audition combination,” Vallins says. “Will they work on character-based combinations or focus on technique?”

What if I’m not a singer?

In most shows, everyone needs to sing—not just the leads. “Find a voice teacher and go as many times as you can afford,” Martignetti says. “When you choose your audition song, make sure it’s something you love to sing.” Pick songs that are in your vocal range and practice often.

What if I can’t afford voice lessons?

“Save enough for one lesson with someone who can put the vocal exercises on a CD for you,” Vallins says. Check out voice lesson videos online, Jones suggests. Or “find a singer who needs help with his or her dancing and trade services.”

What is an audition book?

All performers need a binder with plastic page covers that hold sheet music (yes, you must learn how to read sheet music). When the casting team asks you to sing, bust out your book. The accompanist will play the song you choose and you sing along. If you don’t know how to read sheet music, search for a guide online, then get to a voice coach.

What kinds of songs should I have in my audition book?

Beginners should start with at least two songs. “One should be a standard Broadway song,” Vallins says, from a show like A Chorus Line or 42nd Street.

“Everyone should also have a pop/rock song prepared,” Woodard says. As Broadway embraces rock musicals—from Rock of Ages to Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark—you should, too. It’s also a good idea to prepare a ballad to add range.

“Whatever you choose, the songs should be simple and should show off your ability to keep a melody and stay on pitch,” McGill says.

What are common mistakes dancers make during auditions?

“Apologizing!” Martignetti says. “If you make a mistake, don’t make excuses. The casting crew knows you’re human.”

What are the casting directors thinking?

“Casting directors want you to have a good audition and show what you’re capable of,” Jones says. “If you mess up during an individual audition, ask to start over. It shows that you’re in control.”

Harmon adds, “The hiring crew wants someone who can handle whatever is thrown at them.”

Helpful Tips

Don’t forget your dance resumé.
Make sure your headshot looks like you—not an overdone, too-much-makeup, super-altered version of you.
Warm up before going into the audition room. Don’t wait until you’re in the room to get ready to perform.
Don’t be afraid to ask questions.
If you are told to mark it, mark it. Going full out every time won’t impress the choreographer if that’s not what he/she asked for.
Don’t mark the combination on the side when others are performing.
Be aware of your spacing. Bumping into a fellow dancer will affect your performance and someone else’s.

The Vaganova Ballet Academy, based in St. Petersburg, Russia, is nearly as old as ballet itself. Through the centuries, czars and governments have come and gone—but the Academy has remained. It’s where legends like George Balanchine, Rudolf Nureyev and Natalia Makarova did their first pliés. It’s also where Agrippina Vaganova developed her groundbreaking methodology.

What is it like to be a student there today, and to feel the weight of history on your shoulders every time you step up to the barre?

A Glittering Tradition

Two hundred and seventy-five years ago, the Russian empress Anna Ivanovna issued a royal decree to start a ballet school in St. Petersburg. The first class had only 12 boys and girls. But over the course of the next 100 years, the school blossomed. It became the principal training ground for its affiliated company, the Imperial Ballet, where choreographer Marius Petipa created ballets like Don Quixote and Sleeping Beauty.

The biggest development in the school’s more recent past was the arrival of Agrippina Vaganova. A graduate of the school and a former dancer in the Imperial Ballet, Vaganova found her true calling as a teacher. She was hired in 1921—the same year Balanchine graduated—and later became the director of both the school and the affiliated company, which by then had been rechristened the Maryinsky Ballet. (The school was renamed for Vaganova in 1957, six years after her death.)

“Today, the whole school is full of this spirit of history,” says Irina Tolchilshikova, 18, who is in her eighth year of training at the Academy. The hallways of the school are lined with photos of classes from the last 150 years, an inspiring—and intimidating—reminder for the students of the great dancers who came before them.

The Vaganova Style

During her tenure, Vaganova created a syllabus that is now the standard in Russian training. “Vaganova was a pioneer, and we owe her a lot in the ballet world,” says John White, a former National Ballet of Cuba dancer who teaches the Vaganova syllabus at the Pennsylvania Academy of Ballet and gives Vaganova workshops across the country. According to White, one distinguishing aspect of the technique is its emphasis on the arms, hands and eyes. “There is a total involvement of every part of the person in each and every movement,” he says. “The eyes, the upper body, the facial expression and the arms and hands are all connected. It’s different from some of the other schools, which often focus on the legs and feet.”

This isn’t to say that the legs and feet aren’t important. To Vaganova, “everything leads to allegro,” White says. “She felt that adagio is nice—it gives the eye a chance to rest, and has beautiful poses and positioning. But dancing becomes true dancing when you leave the earth and fly.”

To maintain the Academy’s style and technical standards, all of its teachers and coaches receive extensive training before they are allowed in the classroom. “It is much the equivalent of the American master’s degree in that they study every aspect of training dancers of all ages, from 10-year-old beginners to 18-year-old preprofessionals,” White explains.

Student Life

From dawn to dusk, the Vaganova student’s life revolves around training, a point driven home by the fact that the dormitories and dance studios are all part of the same immense, majestic facility. Most students head to the dance classrooms—with their raked, usually wooden floors, sprinkled with water, rather than rosin, to prevent slipping—early in the morning to warm up before their 9:30 am technique class. Then they have academic classes, followed by another dance class. In the evenings, there are rehearsals for various student concerts and for the small roles they perform with the Maryinsky Ballet.

In addition to their dance classes, students at the Academy study history, algebra, geometry, geography, biology, Russian language and literature, French, English, physics, chemistry, music, music history and ballet history. Sometimes academics and ballet intersect, as when students are required to write essays about their technical mistakes. “There is usually a discussion with the coach regarding each mistake and how to correct it,” says school principal Vera Dorofeeva. “Classical ballet is a long road to perfection, and the student must understand that every step is important.”

It’s not surprising that Irina says her biggest challenge is overcoming tiredness. “I have very little free time during the school year—only on Sundays,” she says. And like most Vaganova students, she’s relentless about pushing herself. “If something isn’t working, I can’t give up,” she says. “If I don’t manage to do the movement the first, second or third time, maybe I’ll manage it by the sixth time.” In fact, after a long day of classes, Irina usually returns to the studio to do extra stretching and technical drills. “The most important thing,” she says, “is to overcome difficult moments and win.”

Fierce Competition

It would be a huge understatement to say that getting a coveted spot at the Academy is a challenge. Between 4,000 and 7,000 children ages 8 to 10 audition annually for about 70 openings in the beginner class. And despite this extreme selectivity, getting into the Academy doesn’t guarantee a professional career. It doesn’t even guarantee graduation. Only 20 or so students actually complete the program and join companies.

In order to proceed to the next class, students must pass an annual exam. “There are fewer positions in each subsequent year,” explains events coordinator Olga Abramova. “This means that there is competition for each student’s position.” Former Maryinsky Ballet dancer Dmitry Trubchanov, currently a soloist at Colorado Ballet, began studying at the Academy at age 8 and recalls that during his first year, there were 10 boys in his class. By the time he graduated, there were three. “It’s tough. If the staff doesn’t see you progress, then you’re dismissed,” he says. “It’s easier for them to be so harsh because the government supports the school, so they don’t have to worry about making money from tuition.” (The school is still fully state-funded; all of its 320 students attend for free.)

At the end of their training, students take a state graduation exam attended by artistic directors from various Russian companies looking to fill open spaces. “Sometimes a student may receive more than one invitation to join a company,” Abramova says. “The most desired company is the Maryinsky Theatre [known in the U.S. as the Kirov Ballet]. However, some students not accepted by the Maryinsky may go to the Mikhailovsky Theatre or the Eifman Ballet.” Others, like Trubchanov, decide to dance with U.S. companies, while extraordinarily gifted alums like Diana Vishneva and Svetlana Zakharova may become stars of an international scale, performing with companies all over the world.

Looking Forward

Though Russian ballet has seen a lot of changes since the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991, the Academy remains a strong symbol of the country’s glorious ballet tradition. It’s also improved its already impressive international reputation, especially since the 1999 appointment of former Maryinsky dancer Altinai Asylmuratova as the school’s artistic director. “Because of her extensive contacts, representatives from foreign ballet schools often visit us,” says press secretary Julia Telepina. “This allows the students to broaden their outlook and introduces them to ballet trends in other countries.” There are even opportunities to tour abroad. Vaganova students have performed in the U.S., Japan and Italy.

And the Academy continues to evolve. Students can now study for two diplomas: ballet dancer and bachelor of performing arts. Additional classes in performing arts management and choreography have been added recently. Dorofeeva is also overseeing a restoration of the Academy’s facilities and theater.

“The Academy has witnessed many changes of political power, and has seen revolutions and wars,” Telepina says. “Yet, despite all the hardships, it has preserved its place in the culture of the world.”

A Typical Day At The Vaganova Academy
9:30–11:00 am: ballet technique
11:00 am–1:00 pm: academic subjects
1:00 pm: lunch
2:00 pm: character dance or dance history
4:00 pm: academic subjects
5:00 pm: rehearsal

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